Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather
by Grandson of Dumbledore
Summary: More than 150 years ago, a boy with extraordinary talent arrived at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to begin his wizard training. This is the story of 11 year old Albus Dumbledore and his thrilling adventures at Hogwarts.
1. The feather lands softly

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

A work of documented fan-fiction (that is to say, I acknowledge that the character Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizard and the whole magical world in which this story is set; as being the intellectual property of JK Rowling).

Please note that a number of the characters in this story are original creations but I owe their creation to JK Rowling, as creator of the world to which they belong.

"Every great master was himself once a student"

Prologue – The feather lands softly

_The year is 1852, the month is July_

Archaeon Nobilo Dumbledore surveyed the dusty sands of Lower Egypt with his typical furrowed gaze, a calloused hand shielding his eyes from the vicious heat of the midday sun. Far to the west, the sands merged with the sky, a shimmering silver hue. To the east wound the Nile River, a sparkling stream of diamonds under the hot North African sun. It was a beautiful view; albeit a burning, painful sight to Archaeon's weary blue eyes.

He had been too long in this desert, and yearned for the comforts of his mother England. He yearned for the smell of freshly cut lawns and the sounds of barking dogs coming from across the expanses of his mansion in Somerset. He yearned for the comforts of his rocking chair beside the fireplace, a healthy cigar in his jowls and a house elf attending to his needs.

You see, Archaeon Nobilo Dumbledore was a wizard, and a mightily famous one at that. His most notable achievement had been the defeat of a vile African witchdoctor, Shakala Mambazo, allowing British wizards to successfully colonize Southern Africa (unknown, of course, to their muggle counterparts.) Yet Archaeon was not one to dwell on his achievements, nor did he accept the offers of Headmaster posts at famous wizarding schools, or even the prestigious post of Minister of Magic for Britain. In fact, Archaeon's reason for turning down these lucrative positions was buried, somewhere in the sands beneath his feet.

Archaeon Dumbledore had an interest in a very obscure branch of magic that very few in the wizarding world were slightly piqued by. Archaeon loved the History of Magic. No, not the tedious subject that had bored him to tears in his days at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (he could still remember falling asleep to the sound of ghostly Professor Binns' drone within a minute of a class starting). Archaeon Dumbledore had no time for that – his interest lay in the field of researching the History of Magic – that is to say, digging up old magical relics. Archaeon Dumbledore was an Archaeowizard!

Just then, Archaeon heard the whoosh of a broom as it came careering towards him, stopping just inches behind his head. He turned with a look of irritation on his tanned, heavily lined face.

'I told you, Aberforth, you cannot ride your broomstick in Egypt!' he snapped. 'The muggles here are _very_ superstitious.'

'Oh, I forgot, Dad,' Aberforth said dully, dropping to the sand with a dumb expression on his face. Archaeon sighed inwardly. His eldest son was such a disappointment sometimes. He wondered how he had made it to third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry without being kicked out for being a totally lost cause. His younger son, on the other hand …

'Dad, Dad - are we going digging today?' came an excited voice from over the crest of the sand dune. Archaeon looked up expectantly with his blue eyes and saw his youngest son struggling purposefully to get his legs up the dreadful dune. A gleam crossed his eyes as he observed his youngest son.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was everything Archaeon could have hoped for in a second attempt at a son. He was still short for his age – at ten going on eleven, the boy had yet to sprout legs as his father was sure he would. After all, both Archaeon and his wife Lubo were tall people. Albus had chestnut coloured hair, a mixture at once of solemn brown and a delightful array of autumnal auburn tones. In sunlight like this, even a gleam of gold found its way to Archaeon's eyes. Albus shared his father's blue eyes. They sparkled whenever he was happy, which was invariably always. Archaeon felt a sense of warmth inside him. He was lucky to have such a beautiful boy as his son, even luckier when he considered how talented Albus was.

Albus Dumbledore had been extremely young when he had first displayed signs of magical ability. So young, in fact, that Archaeon had never met another parent whose child had done so at such an early stage. It had been the first night back from St Mungo's Hospital, where Lubo had given birth to Albus a day prior. The loving parents had gently laid their two day old babe into his cot, before returning downstairs to lay in each others arms in front of the fire, thoroughly exhausted. Not two seconds later, a resounding 'pop' had announced the arrival of baby Albus, now nestled in his mother's arms. Archaeon recalled, with a certain sense of humour about it all, how this uncanny ability to get wherever he wanted had given Lubo a considerable amount of difficulty. They had eventually had to charm Albus with a permanent anti-disapparation jinx, one which would only be lifted when he was seventeen and legally allowed to perform such complex magic.

Archaeon returned his attention to the present. A worn-out but thoroughly excited Albus was now standing in front of him, his face flush with enthusiasm.

'So, are we, are we?' Albus cried eagerly.

'I do not know, my son, it is fairly dangerous down there,' Archaeon teased.

'You said we could go digging with you today!' Albus spluttered; a look of utmost concern on his young, rounded face.

'Yes, Dad, you said we could,' Aberforth added, as dumb to Archaeon's little joke as Albus was.

'Still not Legilimens yet, my sons,' Archaeon quipped, more to Albus than to Aberforth. He very much doubted whether his eldest son would ever be able to perform legilimency, let alone transfigure a needle into a haystack. 'I was joking, if that had not occurred to you.'

'Dad!' cried Albus in exasperation. He beat his hands on his father's great chest, too softly to hurt the man in any way. Albus dearly loved his father, and had been looking forward to this expedition into an archaeological dig in Egypt with every ounce of anticipation in his body. If Archaeon Dumbledore was interested in the digging up of magical history, it is fair to say that Albus Dumbledore was fanatical about it. He had read every single volume of Achmed Al-Mohammed's fifty book series, _Magyk before the fall of Empyres_. The great Arabian historian from the 11th century was widely regarded as the most influential thinkers linking ancient magical practices to modern ones. He was the bridge between the golden Age of Egyptian and Greek magic, across the expanses of the Dark Ages, to the modern magical arts.

'Alright, my son, we shall go now,' Archaeon relented, once he had tired of laughing at his son's impatience. Indeed, he knew that Albus had been waiting for this Egyptian expedition since Archaeon had invited his two sons back at Christmas. The boy's feet had not touched the ground for a month afterwards, and Albus had positively salivated at the thought of going to Egypt – a place some regarded as the birthplace of magic as the wizarding world knew it.

Archaeon led the way across the sands, which were now being whipped around the base of their white Arabian robes (they dared not wear the darker, more fashionable robes of the times back home in England – the Egyptian sun was far too cruel for anything darker than white). Their feet hit the solid sound of stone. Archaeon retrieved his wand from his pocket – Albus watched with wide eyes, still too young to own a wand himself – and cast a spell into the sand.

'Descendo,' Archaeon said, swirling his wand in a tricky incantation. The sands beneath their feet blew apart, revealing stone steps leading into the darkness below. Archaeon cast another spell, 'Illuminatus.' Torches lining the walls of the stairwell lit up, a startling blue colour against the grey stone.

'Follow me, my sons, and remain with me at all times,' Archaeon said, casting a particularly strong look in Aberforth's direction. His eldest son, who was as air-headed as a muggle sometimes, nodded stupidly back. Albus was already pushing to get down the steps.

Archaeon led the way down the steps into the depths of the Egyptian desert sands, his wand out and lit up in spite of the torches burning brightly either side of them. They came to a platform, which appeared to have two alternative exits. Albus' attention was drawn immediately to the archway to the left. It seemed to be emitting a strange, whistling sound, like the sound of voices behind it. Yet a ragged curtain was all that covered it, fluttering to the eerie song from its depths.

'Avert your thoughts from that place, Albus, Aberforth,' Archaeon said, swiftly grabbing Aberforth by his robe to prevent him from walking straight through it. 'That is not a route you wish to take, not for a long time. My team of Archaeowizards will be removing it and taking it back to England soon, but it will not be accessible for the common witch or wizard. We will take this door ahead.'

Archaeon directed his sons to an archway that gleamed, golden and radiant like the gates of Ra, the Egyptian Sun-God's temple. As the trio stepped through, they felt the swirl of wind and the rushing of colours and sounds around them. This archway was a portal to another place, Albus realised with a thrill.

Albus felt his feet hit solid ground and opened his eyes. He could not believe what he saw before him. His father, Aberforth and him were standing on a plinth overlooking what appeared to be a massive city of gold. Every single building shone, golden and brighter than the sun. There were pyramids, temples and walls, aqueducts and palaces; and all seemed to be made purely of gold. This was the most remarkable place that Albus had ever seen! He was about to ask his father where they were, when his father spoke in awed tones.

'My sons, this is Heliopolis, the city of the sun.'

Albus had to blink a few times, both out of shock and to counter the pain from staring at the golden city for too long. This was not possible – he was standing in the ancient and mythical city of Ra, the Egyptian Sun God – a city nobody had seen for probably thousands of years.

'How did you find this, Dad?' Albus asked; overwhelmed with a sense of pride that he was his father's son.

'I have used all magical abilities known to me,' Archaeon said. 'One day, once you have started at Hogwarts and have developed your magical powers enough, I will be able to teach you at least a part of what I know.'

Albus could not wait. Nor could he resist the desire to explore. Archaeon sensed the glow of eagerness in his son and answered before the question was even asked.

'Yes, Albus, you may explore Heliopolis,' Archaeon said. 'Aberforth, you come with me, I have something to show you that might be of interest.'

Liberated, and knowing full well that Aberforth was only accompanying his father because he was too unreliable to be left alone, Albus set off down the golden steps off the platform that led down to the golden streets of the now deserted city. His heart was in his mouth. He could not believe his luck. He was not yet eleven, not yet accepted into Hogwarts, not yet the owner of a wand or a single spell of substance, but he was in the most ancient and magical of all cities – Heliopolis, City of the Sun.

Albus strolled through the streets as though he was the owner, Ra Himself. There were no inhabitants of this deserted place. There might not have been inhabitants for thirty centuries, Albus thought to himself. He felt himself being irresistibly drawn towards the gleaming golden centre of the city, which, somehow, seemed to glow even brighter than the rest of the place, if that was possible.

Albus finally found himself at the foot of the steps leading up into the Temple of the Sun God Himself. They seemed to rise forever ahead of him. He turned, looking around to see if he was being watched by Archaeon or Aberforth (who would be sure to tell on him if he saw). Once he was satisfied that neither were around to see him, he apparated to the top of the steps. Albus had undone his parents' anti-disapparation jinx when he was nine, quite by accident of course, but he had been clever enough not to apparate in the presence of any living person since then. Albus actually had no idea why he was capable of such mysterious powers at such a young age, especially when he compared himself to his hapless brother. Aberforth had only managed to demonstrate magical abilities at the age of ten – just months before the arrival of Hogwarts' letters. And, Albus recalled, it had been the rather pathetic matter of summoning the salt across the table without a wand. Albus had been summoning books from his father's prohibited study at will since the age of five!

Now that Albus had arrived between the magnificent golden columns bearing the proud roof of the Sun God's temple, he was immediately aroused as to what was inside the temple. He walked into the massive atrium, totally awed by the magical depiction of the sky up above. The sun beamed down from the ceiling, as though there was no ceiling there at all. 'So this is where the magic first came from,' Albus thought, thinking about the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Albus had never been there, but he had read about it, of course, in _Hogwarts – A History._

Albus was drawn even further into the temple. He walked past countless statues of people with dogs' heads or other curious shapes in place of their heads, all posing with their hands backwards and forwards in the familiar Egyptian way. Colourful pictograms covered the walls. Up ahead, an altar loomed, a giant golden plinth towering over almost everything in the room.

For some unknown reason, Albus found himself standing on the altar. He had not intended to apparate like that, especially on to such a respectable place as an altar. Unlike Aberforth, Albus had actually learned the lessons in manners and decorum that his parents had tried to instil in him. He immediately wanted to turn, and prepare to apparate off the altar, when something caught his eye.

Right in the centre of the altar was an egg. A strange, pungent smell was coming from it. Albus recognised it as myrrh – despite the rarity of his travels with his father, he had still managed to go to some remarkably exotic places. Right next to the egg was a single, fiery red feather.

Albus could not help himself. He wandered over to the egg, crouched down on his knees and picked up the feather. It seemed warm at the root, as though it had just fallen. Albus was stunned. Could this be?

Albus had read all about ancient magic, of course, and knew exactly what he _thought_ this might mean. There was an ancient creature, so powerfully magic, so _incredibly rare_, that Albus dared not believe it. 'Then again,' he thought to himself, 'this is Heliopolis after all, but no – it's not possible.' Albus mulled it over in his head. This creature, this bird, was legendary. It was said to live for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years, according to some accounts, whereupon it would die in a ball of flame – only to re-emerge from the ashes. Incredible as this seemed, the bird would then create an egg embalmed in myrrh from the ashes of its "father", fly with the egg to the altar of the Sun-God in the city of Heliopolis, and place the egg there.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was holding the feather of a phoenix.

A fraction of a second later, he felt the slightest pressure on his shoulder. Hardly daring to turn and look, he heard the most beautiful sound fill his ears. A haunting, rousing melody that echoed across the Sun God's temple and filled Albus' core with longing, came from behind his ear. He could not wait any longer. Albus turned his head to find that a young phoenix was sitting on his shoulder.

The phoenix was the size of an eagle, with scarlet and golden feathers and a very proud looking face. Its beak glowed like the golden altar on which Albus stood. Two dark, penetrating eyes pierced Albus' own blue ones. The bird then did something terribly strange and terribly frightening for young Albus. It leaned its head forward and nuzzled Albus on the cheek with the front of its beak.

'Er … greetings to you, o phoenix,' Albus managed at last, stroking the wonderful creature with the arm that wasn't carrying the bird. He did not know what else to say to the remarkable creature.

'ALBUS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP THERE?' a voice sounded. It echoed menacingly down the temple. Albus turned at once, horrified to see his father standing at the entrance, hands on his hips. Before Albus knew what was happening, he had apparated to stand right in front of his father, quite without meaning to. He knew that he was truly in trouble now – his father would want to know how long he had been apparating for and how he had undone the anti-disapparation jinx.

'HOW IN THE NAME OF MERLIN DID YOU MANAGE TO DO THAT …' Archaeon began, but his rage quelled and his face became quite pale.

'What is it, father?' Albus asked desperately, afraid that he had done something to scare his father to death.

'That is … that is … oh my, Albus, look what you've found … that's a phoenix!' Archaeon was spluttering, looking more surprised than he had ever done in the presence of Albus.

Albus immediately realised that the bird was still on his shoulder. He had expected it to fly away when his father had bellowed at him from across the temple floor.

Archaeon reached out and stroked the magnificent bird, which gave him a haughty look and returned to nuzzling Albus' cheek. Albus, who had never had a bird on his shoulder, looked thoroughly put out.

'Albus, do you realise that only one of these things exists at a time?' Archaeon said.

Albus nodded. His father started telling him everything about phoenixes, information he already knew from books, sounding as excited as if he had found the Fount of Eternal Life itself. Eventually, when Aberforth had also attempted to stroke the phoenix and been rejected by a sway of the proud bird's neck; and when ten minutes had passed and it had still not left Albus' shoulder, Archaeon made an astonishing announcement.

'Albus, my son, I think you have just become the world's only owner of a phoenix.'

Albus stared back at Archaeon Dumbledore, not quite willing to believe what he had just heard. Was it true? Was he, an ten year old wizard, the new owner of a genuine, real-life phoenix? That did not seem right, in fact, he voiced it immediately.

'I cannot own a phoenix, Dad,' Albus said urgently. 'They have no owner!'

'Exactly the sentiment,' Archaeon said proudly. 'That is why I think it has chosen you as its master. You are very wise for a boy, if I say so myself.'

Albus flushed at the compliment, and turned to stroke his new pet. When his father and Aberforth were leading the way back to the archway into the real world, Albus hung back and spoke to the phoenix in low tones.

'I am not your owner, or master, or anything,' he said simply. 'You are far too powerful for that. But if you really want to stay with me, and be my friend, then I will be very happy. Can I call you … er, Fawkes?'

The phoenix stared into Albus' blue eyes with its own astonishingly dark eyes. Its head tilted forward in an unmistakeable nod. Albus broke into a brilliant grin, giving the phoenix what almost amounted to a hug. Slightly ruffled, the proud thing shook its feathers, but remained on Albus's shoulders nonetheless.

A few hours later they were through the archway, up the steps and back in the swirling desert sands and unquenchable heat of the Sahara. They returned to the Archaeowizards encampment, a set of fifteen magical tents clustered around a small oasis, where an exhausted Albus flung himself onto the comfortable silk sheets of his bed. Fawkes the phoenix fluttered on to the simple wooden table beside the bed, settling down on the cover of _Enchantments in Egypt, Volume 5_. Albus could not keep his eyes off the magical creature, his heart pounding in his chest. This was the greatest that he had ever felt.

Or not. Moments after Albus had fallen into bed, a thoroughly sand-beaten owl came hurtling into the tent. It dropped a letter on Albus's head and promptly collapsed in the corner, half-dead from its journey across the desert. Albus would have opened the letter at once, if not out of concern for the owl. But Fawkes was already hovering over the owl, crying silver tears onto the harried creature. Moments later the owl was flitting about with all the energy in the world. It gave Fawkes a grateful chirp and promptly flew off into the desert as though about to make a simple flight from Sussex to Essex.

'You are amazing, Fawkes,' Albus said. He turned his attention to the letter. It bore a familiar crest. Hands trembling, Albus opened the letter.

'Dear Mr Dumbledore,

I am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry …_'

Albus stopped reading at once. He ran to the opening in his tent, stuck his head out and yelled into the wind.

'Dad, Dad, I'm going to Hogwarts, I'm going to Hogwarts!'

It was the happiest he had ever felt.

Author's Note – This prologue could be the first chapter in a very long and eventful story that is forming in my mind. I would be grateful for anyone who reads this to write a review and let me know if you think it would be worth me writing more. I thoroughly enjoyed creating this beginning. I see it as a beginning in more ways than one – because this precedes the Harry Potter stories by over a century, bringing a school-age Albus Dumbledore to life.


	2. Headed for Hogwarts

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Once again, I acknowledge that the characters and places contained herein, while some being original, all owe their creation to JK Rowling, the genius behind the magical world of Harry Potter. This is strictly a work of fan-fiction.

"Behind every hero is a teacher, a hero in their own right."

Chapter 1 – Headed for Hogwarts

_The year is 1852, the month is August_

Albus could not hold back the thrill of excitement that ran the length of his spine, every time he reminded himself that he was actually going to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Upon his return to the Dumbledore residence in Wales, he had spent his days re-reading _Hogwarts – A History,_ determined to know as much about the place as he could possibly cram into his auburn-haired head before the arrival of September the first.

September the first was a special day for more than one reason. One - it was Albus' eleventh birthday, and two – it was the day that the Hogwarts Express left Platform 9¾ from Kings Cross in London. But, as Albus remembered with longing, as he turned over a leaf to page 1066 of _Hogwarts – A History,_ September the first was still a week away.

'Albus?' cried a woman's voice from downstairs. He recognised the sweet voice of his mother, Lubo. She was quite Albus' second favourite person in the world, behind his father Archaeon. He loved his mother dearly, and answered promptly whenever she called. He snapped shut _Hogwarts – A History_ and went bounding down the stairwell.

Lubo Dumbledore was a tall, slender woman with an exquisitely beautiful face. Pale skin flushed into crimson cheeks, underneath jewel-like blue eyes, radiant as diamonds. Her hair was pure white, sleek as the coat of a unicorn, and ran the length of her back. As usual, she wore lovely turquoise robes, littered with yellow stars. As she smiled at her favourite son, she revealed glittering white teeth.

'My son, we have an excursion to make today, remember?' she said gently.

'I could hardly forget, could I, mother?' Albus said in reply. Today was the promised trip to Diagon Alley, the greatest street of cobbled stone in the world. Albus was at last going to buy everything on the Hogwarts school list; a list that included the thing that Albus had wanted since he could first remember wanting anything – a wand.

'Make yourself ready then, we leave by floo powder on the hour,' Lubo said, pointing at the stately grandfather clock in the hallway. Albus gathered that he had five minutes and sprinted upstairs to get ready. He wanted to wear the robes that he had brought back from Egypt, for all to see. Strangely, this was not an act of pride on Albus' part. He had no intention of bragging to anyone that he had been to far-off lands. He wanted everyone to know that his _father,_ Archaeon, had been digging up treasures in the mythical African land. Albus was immensely proud of Archaeon, and was never afraid to show it.

Five minutes later, Albus was spinning around in a whirl of colour and sounds, before toppling out of a fireplace and into the crowded street of Diagon Alley. Lubo and Aberforth followed. Albus' older brother was now entering into his third year at Hogwarts, and needed to stock up on supplies as well as picking up textbooks for the new subjects he was taking. Albus could only smirk when he thought of Aberforth learning Divination. Care of Magical Creatures he could live with, he thought, as he recalled Aberforth's other choice of a second new subject. But – Divination? What a woolly discipline that was. Albus thought his brother would have been much wiser to take Ancient Runes. Anything concerned with the Ancients was music to Albus' ears.

Lubo led her sons at a march down Diagon Alley. Albus' eyes scanned from left to right, soaking in the sights of merry wizards and witches laughing or cursing, haggling over prices or peddling their wares. His mother had him buy his cauldron first, in order to carry the quills, ink bottles, potions ingredients, books and various other items that followed on the list. He and Aberforth were fitted into robes, the thirteen year old Aberforth having grown six inches over summer. Albus had to wonder if maybe Aberforth knew more magic than he gave him credit for. The three passed by the Owl-arium, Albus quite content with the fact that he would be the only person in the history of Hogwarts to arrive in the possession of a genuine phoenix. Perhaps that little fact would turn up in a later edition of _Hogwarts – A History,_ he thought with a silent grin.

At last they arrived at Ollivanders, the moment of truth at hand. Albus handed his cauldron full of equipment to his mother, every part of him shaking, and stepped into the musky atmosphere of the wand shop. All he could see were towering shelves full of wand boxes, rows and rows of them fading into the dusty light at the back of the store. Albus gave a slight start when an old man appeared in front of him, bespectacled and wearing a strange, rather unnerving grin.

'Ah, yes … I have been looking forward to seeing you, yes, indeed,' the man said in a gravely voice. Albus could not help shivering. The man fixed him with an odd stare, as if assessing him for weakness. Albus stood dead still, not willing to show any frailty, as though this might affect the type of wand he received.

'Albus Dumbledore,' the man said, his voice softer than a slight breeze. 'Yes, yes, at last. Come, let's try you on some wands, shall we, for amusement's sake.'

Albus wondered why 'trying him on a wand' would be amusing. Had he been dreaming all along? What if he could not find a wand that fitted? What if he was revealed to have been worse than Aberforth all along, and was not able to even attend Hogwarts? No, these thoughts were ridiculous, Albus realised. Maybe it was just the atmosphere inside Ollivanders, and the creepiness of the storekeeper, that made people jittery when they came here. Albus calmed down a lot once he made that realisation.

However, twenty five wands later and having upturned most of the wand boxes in the store with the powerful blasts that they had issued, Albus was beginning to wonder if he would ever find a wand. Ollivander, however, seemed delighted by all this. He put his fingers to his chin, scratching it with a bizarre expression on his face. It was as if he had been waiting for something for so long that he had forgotten what it was that he had been waiting for in the first place.

'I think it is time we tried a certain wand …' Ollivander hissed under his breath. 'Yes, I made this wand eleven years ago … eleven years ago next week, to be precise.' He eyed Albus with a penetrating stare, urging him to build links in his head. Albus, smart as ever, wondered if Ollivander meant that he had made the wand that he spoke of on his own birthday, the first of September, 1841.

Ollivander retreated into the darkest shadows at the back of his store, returning with a terribly dusty box. He opened it, revealing a long and slender brown wand, decorated with streaks of red sheen in the wood. It was not unlike the colour of Albus' hair.

'Twelve and a half inches, willow,' Ollivander began, in a mysterious tone, 'flexible, with two elements to its core. Eleven years ago, I had been on a mission to collect a hair from the tail of a very fine unicorn, one of the most powerful ever to have galloped the Scottish Highlands. I intended to use this hair in the creation of my next wand. I sat down on the first of September, eleven years ago, and prepared to make use of this hair and the wood from a particularly old, powerful willow tree. I knew that it would create a very powerful wand.'

Albus was listening with rapt attention, not sure where the story was headed, but fairly sure that the ending had something to do with him.

'Imagine my surprise,' Ollivander went on, 'when a burst of flame appeared out of nowhere above my desk, and a crimson feather fell into my lap.'

At this point in the telling of the tale, Ollivander leaned close to Albus' face – so close, in fact, that Albus could almost taste the tangy smell of wood on Ollivander's skin.

'When a phoenix dies, it sends a feather to me in a flash of flame,' Ollivander said. 'This was only the second time that it had ever happened in my lifetime.'

Albus did a quick calculation and began to wonder just how old Ollivander was, given that phoenixes tended to live for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years.

'Needless to say, I used that feather in combination with the unicorn hair to make this wand,' Ollivander said. 'This is a very powerful wand, and only a very powerful wizard deserves it. Did you know, Mr Dumbledore, that the feather inside this wand belonged to the previous incarnation of the phoenix in your possession?'

Albus was too stunned by the fact that Ollivander knew about Fawkes, and the fact that Fawkes must have been born on the same day as he had been, to answer. It did not matter, because Ollivander thrust the wand into his hand and urged him to give it a wave. He did not have to move an inch. Furious warmth ran the length of his arm, filling him with a sense of awesome power. He felt like he was radiating heat, his feet shaking the ground on which he stood. A gleam of gold appeared at the tip of his wand, shooting out sparks and stars.

'Excellent, excellent,' Ollivander rasped. 'You will do wondrous things with that wand, boy, truly wondrous and powerful things.'

With that dramatic statement, the old man vanished into the darkest corner of his store. Albus was immediately reunited with the chilling feeling that a great power, for good or for evil, resided in that place. He made for the exit at once, after leaving the necessary pile of gold galleons on the counter.

Back at home in the Dumbledore's Welsh house, Albus revelled in the sensation of walking around with a wand in his hand. At first his mother and father had been delighted in their son's newest acquisition.

'It really is beautiful, Albus,' Lubo said, admiring the wand over Albus's shoulder. 'It goes well with your hair.'

'Never mind that, dear,' Archaeon said, throwing his wife a fond look as though it was typical for her to think about such trivial things. 'It has a tremendously powerful core – I knew you'd get a good one, my boy, but I must say – phoenix feather and unicorn hair; that is quite a combination.'

Even Aberforth had something good to say to Albus for a change, saying it was the best wand he had ever seen without the usual trace of jealousy in his voice. As the perennially disappointing older son, Aberforth often had cause to feel ashamed of the way that Albus outshone him without having spent a day at Hogwarts. But now that his little brother was coming to school with him, a strange protective urge had taken over and Aberforth was already planning ahead to the times when he would have to stand up to anyone who tried to bully Albus. Not that Albus would not know how to hex them all into a thousand pieces; within a week of arriving at Hogwarts; but Aberforth was quite happy to fantasise about being a good older brother for a change.

Archaeon and Lubo Dumbledore's patience with Albus began to run out after only a day of complimenting him on his fantastic new wand. Albus had read about hundreds of spells during his childhood and now had the tool with which to make them happen. He went about the house hexing everything that moved, from the owl to the house-elf, and trying to charm everything that did not move. By the time thirteen china plates and at least a dozen of Archaeon's prized Egyptian treasures had found their way on to the floor in a thousand pieces, Albus' parents had had enough.

'No more magic until you are at Hogwarts,' Archaeon had declared at dinner, an unusually severe look on his normally placid face.

'But Dad, I've got a wand now and I want to use it,' Albus pleaded.

'They are thinking of introducing a ban on underage magic at the Ministry,' Archaeon said firmly. 'So I am banning you from using yours.'

'But it is not a law yet, so why can I not …'

'Albus,' Lubo intoned softly, seeing a dark frown appearing on her husband's face at this challenge from his normally obedient son, 'do as your father pleases.'

Albus rarely opposed one of his parents, let alone two, so his complaints subsided and he ate the rest of dinner in a glum silence. The five days until September the first would be the longest of his life, he thought miserably.

Albus' fears turned out to be incorrect. The five days flew by in a rush, almost as swiftly as Fawkes was able to appear out of mid-air in a flash of flame. Albus did not know where his bird went during its mysterious disappearances, but was relieved every time that Fawkes returned. It was his greatest fear that the phoenix would grow tired of him, and vanish for good. Albus spent the days poring over books and growing increasingly restless when he stared at his wand, perched proudly on the pile of clothes that lay atop his luggage trunk, waiting for the great day.

It dawned at last, Albus' eleventh birthday and the day that he would be going to Hogwarts by train. Albus was woken by a strange feeling on his cheek, as if some dragon was trying to nudge him with its horn. He sat up in a trice, reaching blindly for his wand to defend himself against the dragon from his dreams. Instead he found himself pointing the wand at Fawkes, who had been nuzzling him in his sleep. To his great surprise, Fawkes began to sing. The unearthly song brought tears to Albus' eyes. How it managed to sing so beautifully, like a choir of Celtic maidens welcoming the dawn on a ridge above a misty Welsh valley, was quite beyond him.

Albus' family were drawn into the room by the birdsong. They clapped merrily when Fawkes finished his ode, before hurrying forward to load Albus with hugs and presents. Aberforth gave him _Lost in Egypt_, a book by Elviron Lockhart, who, according to the cover, was the world's most renowned wizard-explorer. Albus had never heard of him, but supposed that one could not expect to know everything at the age of eleven. Lubo leaned over and planted a kiss on his forehead; Archaeon ruffled his hair and then presented him with a package that looked suspiciously like a broomstick. With a rip and a tear and an exalted whoop, Albus allowed a Cleansweep Two to fall onto his lap. It was the very newest and best broom in the world, mass made by a wizarding factory that was making the most of the magical industrial revolution that was sweeping Europe. Albus was lost for words, if only for a second.

'Thank you!' he gasped at last, leaping out of bed and hugging his delighted parents. 'Now I have the best of everything – the best pet in the world, the best wand, the best broomstick, the best parents … I'm going to the best school in the world today …' Albus caught sight of Aberforth, who was looking out the window and biting his lip. '… and I have the best brother, too!'

The happy Dumbledore family united for another hug, before Lubo got into her motherly stride and nagged the boys to be ready. They had to make a very swift invisible flight to London, in order to make it to Platform 9¾ by eleven. Once levitating charms had been applied to Albus and Aberforth's belongings, the four Dumbledores mounted their brooms and soared into the air. Archaeon applied an invisibility charm to all of them, and they flew up over the clouds, high above muggles who were all blissfully unaware of the strange flying humans above them.

For Albus, this flight was a whole new experience. He was an experienced flier, having spent many hours during his childhood beating Aberforth and the neighbouring Jones' boys at Quidditch. Yet the Cleansweep Two carried him in such a way that the hairs stood up at the back of his neck. This was flying, quite unlike anything he had ever experienced before. He was free, as alive as he had ever been.

When Lubo and Archaeon Dumbledore hurriedly shoved their sons into a carriage on the Hogwarts Express, just as the train started to sound its hooter, Albus felt a twang of pain in his chest. He was leaving his parents behind, the two people he loved the most in the world. For the first time in his life, he felt like a little boy that needed to be held.

'I'll miss you, Mum and Dad,' Albus said, a silent tear in his eye. Lubo was weeping openly. Archaeon reached out a hand and grabbed Albus by his, gripping it tightly.

'You do yourself proud, my son,' he said. 'Learn from that great place everything that you possibly can, and return to me a better wizard.'

'I will,' Albus said. He spun into the carriage, unwilling to face his parents with tears in his eyes. When he summoned the courage to look out of the window, trees were streaming past in a blur. They were out of London, headed for Hogwarts. He turned to find that Aberforth had gone off to join some friends in one of the cabins. He was on his own.

Albus struggled to drag his trunk along the corridor, relieved when he found a cabin occupied by three kids, who were smaller than he was and looked even more terrified, if that was possible.

'Er … hello there. May I join you?' Albus inquired. The three kids nodded quickly. Albus thought they looked scared that he might hex them or something. He broke into a relaxed grin. 'I'm just a first year.'

'Oh! I thought you were a second year coming to tease us,' said the boy sitting closest to him, looking relieved. He had dark, messy hair, brown eyes and was good looking. He reached out a polite hand, which Albus gladly shook. 'My name is William James Potter, just William if you'd like, or Potter. Either way, I don't mind. Just don't call me James – I hate that name, I got it from my uncle.'

'I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,' Albus said, grinning at William Potter. 'Don't bother with the middle three; they make for a painful arm when I have to write my name.'

The other two children were staring at Albus with wide eyes, seeming to think that his five names made him somehow superior to them.

'What are your names?' Albus said; slumping into a chair and hoping that would break the ice a little. The girl sitting opposite, who had curly blonde hair, a sharp nose and impressive grey eyes, relaxed enough to smile.

'My name is Emily Jane Marchbanks,' she said.

Apparently she had not shared her surname with the other two, because William Potter let out a gasp.

'Your mother is the Chief Examiner for OWLS!' he cried.

'My grandmother, actually,' Emily said, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. She did not seem to be particularly proud of this particular family link.

'Nice to meet you, Emily,' Albus said. He turned to the third person in the carriage, an expectant look in his blue eyes. The third child was a boy with straight brown hair and piercing green eyes. He looked like a very serious sort.

'I am Mars McGonagall,' he said, fixing Albus with a sharp gaze. Albus met him levelly, feeling a strange connection with this boy. They would be friends; he realised, and broke into a smile. Mars did the same.

'Nice to meet you too, Mars,' Albus said. 'Now, so that we can get to know each other better, why don't we play a card game my father brought back from Persia one time? Its called Exploding Snap …'

Time passed in a haze of merriment in that particular cabin. Albus was an expert at Exploding Snap, but played easily in order to win the friendship of the other three. Twice he had to douse his singed eyebrows with water from his wand, a spell that made the others gape in astonishment. Albus assured them all that he had had a head start, pretending that his older brother had taught him the spell, and that they would all be dousing their eyebrows within a week of arriving at Hogwarts. He did not want to appear arrogant on his very first day by revealing that it was, in fact, a fairly complex charm that he had learned from a Grade Four book on Charms during the summer.

The afternoon of merriment, with warm September sunlight pouring in through the windows and magical sweets being shared between the four; was only interrupted once, by an unpleasant but familiar face with dark eyebrows and even darker eyes. The boy was accompanied by a haughty looking witch and a thickset dolt of a boy, whose shaggy mane covered most of his dull eyes.

'Ah, a room full of pure-bloods, just my type,' the boy said, sidling into the room with a smirk on his face. 'Although not from the finest families, I see. Emily Marchbanks, my father is acquainted with your grandmother … ah yes, William Potter, your father is well connected at the Ministry … and you must be Mars McGonagall … hmm, not a bad family I suppose … and …'

Here, the boy paused to look Albus over. He frowned, seemingly lost for Albus' name. Without hesitating, Albus filled him in.

'Albus Dumbledore,' he said, giving the intruder a good natured smile. 'Pleased to meet you …'

'Dumbledore,' said the boy softly. His face twisted into something that half resembled a smirk, but was better interpreted as awe. Albus knew that everyone in the wizarding world knew of Archaeon Dumbledore's exploits in Africa. The dark-eyed boy gave himself a shake, puffed out his chest and started spurting out words in an imperious tone. 'I don't think much of your father, really. Wasting his time in pointless digging, I ask you – what is the purpose of it all? Besides, he turned down Minister of Magic, I mean, who would do that? Now my father, he had his head on the right way, he took the Headmaster post at Hogwarts as soon as it was offered …'

'Your father is Phineas Nigellus Black?' Albus asked, suddenly realising why the boy's face looked familiar. He had seen a picture of Phineas Black in _Hogwarts – A History._

'Ah, so you do know something, Dumbledore,' the boy said, smirking again. 'My father is indeed Phineas Nigellus Black, Headmaster of Hogwarts. I, if you did not know, am his son, Noxious. This is Isabella Malfoy, and this is Frederick Bode.'

Albus nodded at the other two, who were half inside the door with bored expressions on their faces. Albus noticed that William, Emily and Mars were all looking at Noxious with something bordering on contempt. He supposed that Noxious had insulted Mars to a point, and remembered that he had just been insulting his father Archaeon.

'My father is a great man, Noxious, as I'm sure your father is,' Albus said peaceably, hoping that, even if he did not make a friend out of Noxious Black, he would not make an enemy.

Noxious seemed to have other intentions.

'Archaeon Dumbledore is a fool,' Noxious spat. 'You don't look much better either. Weird purple robes with stars, what are you, a muggle entertainer? I see you have a Cleansweep Two, but that is probably the only decent thing you own. Archaeo-wizards hardly get paid much, do they? And look, you don't even have a pet owl like everyone else!'

Albus was shaking, doing his utmost not to react to the stream of insults that had just come his way for no reason at all. Fortunately, a flash of fire announced the arrival of the most spectacular crimson and gold bird in the world.

'What in the name of …' Noxious said, stumbling backwards and stepping on Isabella's toes. She screamed and the three fell out of the cabin, hastily making their exit.

'Hello Fawkes,' Albus said absently, stroking his phoenix. It took a while for him to notice that William, Emily and Mars were all staring at him in amazement.

'You own a phoenix?' William Potter said at last.

'Yes, I suppose I do,' Albus said, smiling back at him. 'Pretty useful bird, too – look how fast he got rid of those three.'

The cabin rocked with laughter, and the new friends got back to singing eyebrows with Exploding Snap cards. All three of Albus' new mates commented on how brave he had been to handle Noxious Black's insults without reacting.

'I did not react,' Albus explained calmly, 'because I knew everything Noxious said to be untrue. My father Archaeon _is_ a great man, and nobody can tell me any different.'

The other three stared at Albus again, astounded at how wise and brave their fellow first year was in the face of such a fearsome bully as Noxious Black. They had all three met Noxious previously; it was only the fact that Archaeon Dumbledore was always overseas that had kept Albus from being a regular part of wizarding social circles. Albus did not seem too worried by any of this. He was having too good a time, as the Hogwarts Express drew nearer to its wonderful destination.

At long last the wheels slowed and the engine chugged to a halt. Through a mass of bodies and trunks; Albus, William, Emily and Mars made their way towards the call of 'First years please!' They found themselves in a cluster in front of a tall, pale man who introduced himself as Romulus Lupin, Keeper of Grounds and Keys at Hogwarts. Albus noticed that Noxious, Isabella and Frederick were giving Mr Lupin a very strange look indeed. Noxious did not seem to like many people on first impressions at all, Albus observed.

Lupin led the first years down to the waters edge of a massive, pitch black lake. Night was upon them, and a pantheon of stars sparkled down at them from sky's canvas. On a hill on the other side of the lake stood the towering turrets and gleaming yellow windows of Albus' new home – Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

As the boats moved slowly towards the majestic castle, Albus felt his throat constrict with excitement. His life as he knew it was forever changed by this moment. He was no longer a boy with potential – he was a real-life wizard in training. From this day, Albus Dumbledore knew that special things would happen to him. But he would always remember this moment as being the most special of all – floating across the ethereal lake towards the most splendid place in the world.

Authors Note – I hope you like this first chapter as much as the Prologue. I am really desperate for feedback as I don't know whether anyone thinks it is worth me continuing with this. Thanks to SammyStar for vouching for my story. I look forward to reading anyone's opinions and very much hope to continue Albus' journey through Hogwarts.


	3. Let it be Gryffindor

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this work is a fan-fiction based on the world created by JK Rowling.

"Everything that has an end, had a beginning"

Chapter 2 – Let it be Gryffindor

Romulus Lupin led the first years from the dungeon where their boats had docked, up a dingy flight of stairs and into the magnificent Entrance Hall of Hogwarts. The sound of hundreds of voices came from behind a massive set of doors, which Albus guessed must be the older students in the Great Hall. Once the Keeper of Keys had ferried the first years into an antechamber to the side of the Entrance Hall, he told them to wait there and left through another door. The first years stared at one another in nervous silence. It was a silent broken by the arrogant voice of Noxious Black.

'We'll be sorted into our houses first, naturally,' Noxious said, with an air of importance. 'My father, the Headmaster, says that Slytherin is the best house to be in. Since he's been Headmaster, Slytherin have won the House Cup every single year – that's ten times in a row!'

'I wonder why,' William Potter said in an undertone to Albus, but Noxious seemed to have good hearing. He threw William a caustic look and raised his voice even louder.

'I don't know why anyone would want to be in a house life Gryffindor,' he sneered. 'Brave they may be, but foolhardy and stupid if you ask me. They are the sort of people who go digging for magical treasures that do not exist.'

Noxious was looking directly at Albus as he said this, a gleam in his dark eyes as he waited for some sort of reaction. Albus was not going to pander to Noxious' games, not on his first night at Hogwarts. He caught sight of a short, scruffy boy with messy blonde hair and blue eyes that were darting around nervously. Albus recognised him as Davey Jones, one of the Welsh boys he always used to play Quidditch with. Turning his back on Noxious' taunting, Albus spoke loudly to his friend.

'Hello there, Davey,' Albus said. 'I hope you are not too nervous, are you?'

'No, no, I'm not, like,' Davey said; a slight tremble in his voice. 'How are you, Albus? How was Egypt?'

Albus was just about to answer when Noxious came over, a downright leer on his face.

'Goodness gracious Albus, not only are you the son of an Archaeo-wizard, but you're associating with half bloods, too,' Noxious snorted. He turned to address the other first years. 'My father says Hogwarts is only accepting half-bloods because there are so few pure bloods left. He says pure bloods should have more children so we do not have to deal with this sort of riff-raff.'

Davey Jones had gone a bright shade of red, his blue eyes watering. Albus felt heat radiating from his face, not unlike the day when he had bought his wand from Ollivanders. He was strongly tempted to hex Noxious, but had no intention of receiving a detention on his first night. Besides, hexing the Headmaster's son would probably get him expelled. He chose to fight back with words, instead.

'Noxious Black, I am willing to bet that by the end of this year, Davey Jones is a better wizard than you are,' Albus said.

Davey shook his head wildly, a look of terror on his face. Noxious eyed Davey up with a curious grin, before holding out a hand for Albus to shake.

'Deal,' Noxious said. 'I bet you two galleons that this silly little muggle cannot beat me in a fair wizarding duel at the end of first year.'

'Ten galleons,' Albus said, without blinking or looking in Davey's direction. Noxious looked a little put out by this; but, unwilling to lose face in front of the other first years, bit down on his lip and shook hands with Albus. He stalked back to his group of cronies.

'How could you do that, Albus?' Davey whimpered. 'Gareth and Thomas are good wizards, alright, but not I. He will surely kill me in a duel.'

'Do you even own ten galleons?' Mars McGonagall asked; a look of disbelief on his face. In 1852, ten galleons was equivalent to a year's salary for a typical wizard.

Albus shook his head to both questions. He had a resolute look on his face, his lips drawn tight and his piercing eyes fixed on a point on the wall. It was a look that would become famous in years to come.

'I assure you,' Albus said quietly, 'that Davey Jones will be a better wizard than Noxious Black by the end of this year. I promise to help you, Davey, if I have to.'

The stir of conversation among the first years caused by Noxious and Albus' confrontation silenced the instant that a teacher entered the room. It was a rather short, squat man with a big nose and loose jowls. He looked like an old, tired bulldog with a short temper from where Albus stood.

'I am Professor Ebenezer Fudge,' he said in a gruff voice, 'Deputy Headmaster and Housemaster for Slytherin.' He eyed up Noxious Black and Isabella Malfoy with a look of anticipation that they would soon be sorted into his house. 'If you follow me now in two straight lines, we shall enter the Great Hall for the sorting to begin.'

As many times as Albus may have read _Hogwarts – A History,_ it was still had nothing on the real thing. The Great Hall was a truly splendid room. Hundreds of necks craned from four long tables to catch a glimpse of the tiny first years entering the room. Albus craned his own neck to gaze at the thousand candles floating freely in the air, underneath the magnificent pantheon of space that covered the enchanted ceiling. He could see the stars streaming like rivers of diamonds across the black beyond. It sent a tingle down his spine that set all the hairs on his skin on end.

Professor Fudge made the first years stop at the front of the hall, beneath what appeared to be the main table. A dozen witches and wizards sat there, looking down at the first years with faces ranging from stiff and impassive to friendly and smiling. Albus noticed Romulus Lupin to the side, a smile playing at the edge of his lips. Professor Phineas Nigellus Black was sitting in the middle of the table, his face dark and gloomy like his sons. He gave a smirk and a toothy smile when Noxious waved at him. Albus wondered which of the teachers would be his housemaster – he had already decided that he did not want Professor Fudge for a housemaster and Slytherin for a house.

Professor Fudge placed a wooden stool in the middle of the platform, and a grizzly brown hat on top of the stool. He stepped away, and before anyone could do anything, a slit in the side of the hat had opened like a mouth and started to sing.

Many hundred years and plenty score ago

I was enchanted with the means to know

What lies inside the character of the young

You've no place to hide when this song is sung

I am the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts School

To sort you into four is my enchanted rule

Ever since I fell from the head of Gryffindor

I have served this purpose of the founders four

Rowena Ravenclaw had a plan outlined

To build a school for developing minds

Helga Hufflepuff agreed within a trice

Teach one and all was her wise advice

Salazar Slytherin had a different view

To select the very best and purest few

Godric Gryffindor joined the four as one

And Hogwarts as a school had begun

If your mind is wise and deep of thought

And you thirst for all that can be taught

Then wear the ribbons grey and blue

For you're in Ravenclaw as you knew

If you belong in a crowd of laughter

And true friendship is what you're after

Then black and yellow are your stuff

For you belong in the house of Hufflepuff

If great power and glory are your thrills

And you seek to rid the world of its ills

Then seek no more than silver and green

Slytherin is where your heart's always been

If loyalty and courage are your strengths

And for the right way you'll go any lengths

You shall join the house maroon and gold

It will be Gryffindor for the true and bold

Alas now the awaited time has come

I have said my piece, my song is done

So cast aside your fears and step on up

Let me sort you so the school can sup!

A tremendous round of applause filled Albus' ears at the end of the Sorting Hat's song, mixed with cries of agreement at the hat's last statement. Albus was not feeling very hungry himself, however. A bundle of nerves had settled down inside his stomach and he was starting to feel worried. At least the faces of his fellow first years were equally strained and pale, he noticed. He was not the only person feeling slightly ill at the thought of putting on a talking hat in front of the entire school.

Professor Fudge stepped forward again with a scroll of parchment. He cleared his flabby throat and read out a name from the top of his list.

'Black, Noxious.'

The dark-eyed boy walked up with a swagger of arrogance. The Headmaster gave his son an appreciative smirk as Professor Fudge planted the hat on Noxious's head. A few seconds later, the cry of 'SLYTHERIN!' rang out across the Great Hall. A table of dark and ugly looking witches and wizards cheered as Noxious Black slunk back to join them.

'Bode, Frederick' also became a Slytherin, and 'Bradshaw, Annabel' became the first Gryffindor, but Albus stopped paying attention to the names that were being called out. His throat was dry and his heart was pounding in his ears. Moments later, Professor Fudge's voice called out through the buzzing in his ears.

'Dumbledore, Albus.'

The Great Hall seemed to stir once they heard the name Dumbledore, but Albus was too busy shaking to notice. He sat down on the wooden stool. Professor Fudge plopped the hat on his head. It gobbled up most of his head, covering his eyes. Albus stared into the inside of the hat as a voice spoke to the inside of his head.

'Plenty of brains, I see … in fact, there is wisdom and knowledge in abundance,' the Sorting Hat mused. 'I might have to put you in Ravenclaw, but … I sense a rare kindness for half bloods and muggles … yes, Hufflepuff would be extremely glad to have you … ah, yes, power. There is a great power within you and a desire to reach great heights that would serve you well in Slytherin …'

'No, not Slytherin!' cried Albus inside his head. He could handle Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, but certainly not a house that possessed Noxious Black.

'Ah, so you have made the choice already then,' growled the hat inside Albus' hair. 'Very well, it will not be Slytherin. But where should I put you? There is courage, oh yes, and tremendous loyalty … very well then … let it be GRYFFINDOR!'

Albus came back to his senses with a jolt. A table full of happy faces were cheering and applauding. Some of the boys were pounding their hands on the table with a little too much enthusiasm. Albus could see spoons and forks jiggling about, perilously near the edge of the Gryffindor table. He wandered down to join them, taking a seat beside the familiar face of Thomas Jones, Davey's older brother and one of Albus' friends from Quidditch during the summer.

'Well done, Albus,' Thomas said, patting him on the back. 'I will keep an eye out for you this year; I have been made a prefect.'

Albus hoped that Davey Jones would also join Gryffindor, but was disappointed when the Sorting Hat called out 'Hufflepuff' instead.

'I suppose it ain't a surprise,' Thomas said. 'I'm a Gryffindor, Gareth's a Ravenclaw and now Davey's a Hufflepuff. At least we don't have a Slytherin.' Albus agreed with a nod. He was glad that the Jones brothers were in houses other than Slytherin.

All three of Albus' new friends from the trip on the Hogwarts Express; Emily Marchbanks, Mars McGonagall and William Potter were also sorted into Gryffindor. The other Gryffindor boys were Alabastor Meadowes, who had blonde hair, and Edward Stephenson, a muggle with red hair, freckles and blue eyes. The other four Gryffindor girls were two half-bloods by the name of Annabel Bradshaw and Elizabeth Figg, and two pure-bloods, Victoria Moody and Maggie Weasley. Albus' eye was particularly drawn to Victoria Moody, who was a beautiful girl with sandy yellow hair and dark eyes. His hand lingered in hers for a fraction longer than normal as the ten new Gryffindors exchanged nervous handshakes of greeting.

When the sorting was over, Professor Fudge removed the chair and the hat. The Great Hall was alive with chatter. It died down when Professor Black rose to his feet, his dark eyes glaring down at the students of Hogwarts.

'Another year begins,' Professor Black drawled. 'Another year in which I expect Slytherin to retain the House Championship…' A swell of cheers rose up from the table at the far side of the hall, while the other three houses shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Albus was shocked. How could the Headmaster be so obviously biased? Professor Black continued, 'and a year in which I expect the school to continue in the noble pursuit of wizardry and witchcraft. Please note that the caretaker, Mr Wilfred Umbridge, has a list of six hundred school rules and six hundred and sixty six punishments at his disposal. Do not test him on his use of those punishments.'

Professor Black grinned nastily at the school. Albus shuddered, images of whips, chains and screws filling his head. He was getting the distinct impression that Hogwarts was being run by people of questionable values.

'You may eat,' Professor Black said. At once the four house tables were loaded to the brim with every kind of food imaginable. Albus could not believe his eyes at the choice of lamb, beef, chicken, ham and fish for the main course. Not to mention flagons of pumpkin juice, bowls of fruit and loaves of bread. There were pies and pastries, tarts and cakes. He tucked in immediately, as did the other nine Gryffindor first years. Their nerves had vanished now that the Sorting was over.

'Why hello there,' said a head in the roast lamb. Albus did not know who had shrieked louder; Annabel Bradshaw or Edward Stephenson. The head quickly floated up to reveal a body dressed in very fine clothes, with several layers of ruffles at his sleeves and collar. The only thing about this body was that it was a misty grey, and almost completely see-through.

'First years, let me introduce myself as Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, resident ghost of Gryffindor tower,' said the ghost.

'Nearly Headless Nick!' cried Thomas Jones. Several other older Gryffindors repeated the cry of greeting to their ghost. Sir Nicholas looked decidedly irritated, but readily popped his almost totally severed head on to his shoulder to reveal the reason behind his nickname. Edward let out another shriek.

'I am not appreciated at all,' Nearly Headless Nick bemoaned. Eager to befriend the ghost, Albus tried to stop him from floating away.

'Please sit with us, Sir Nicholas,' Albus said. 'We do not have to call you Nearly … by the other name, if you do not want us to.'

'At last, the respect I deserve,' Sir Nicholas said, floating over to sit in between Albus and William Potter. William looked delighted to have a ghost sitting next to him. He started barraging Sir Nicholas with questions about how he had died and nearly had his head chopped off. Sir Nicholas was flattered by the attention, and the eager stares of the other nine Gryffindors, so he responded with a lengthy description of the battle in which his life had ended. As Albus had already read _Hogwarts – A History,_ he turned to Thomas Jones instead, wanting answers to a few questions of his own.

'Is Professor Black normally so … evil?' Albus asked in a whisper, hoping that nobody would hear him. He did not wish to get himself on the wrong side of Mr Umbridge and his punishments.

'Oh yes,' Thomas Jones said carelessly, and loudly, to Albus' surprise. 'He's widely regarded as the worst Headmaster Hogwarts has ever had, and I think he knows it. Not that he cares what people think. All he cares about is seeing Slytherin House grow stronger every year, and producing lots of talented pure blooded wizards.'

'I thought Hogwarts had a board of school governors,' Albus said. 'Can they not get rid of him?'

'All the governors are pure bloods and most of them were in Slytherin,' Thomas said. 'Do not worry yourself about them. They do not worry about us, so we Gryffindors make the most of our freedoms and have a good time. You will love Hogwarts, I promise you that.'

Feeling slightly better thanks to Thomas' assurances, Albus asked about the teachers sitting at the head table.

'Which one of them is our housemaster?' Albus asked.

'Housemistress, actually,' Thomas said, pointing at the elderly witch sitting to the left of Professor Fudge. She was a lot taller than the dog-faced Slytherin housemaster. She had straight grey hair which hung neatly down her back. She wore black robes and a monocle on her left eye, which gave her a rather forbidding appearance.

'What is her name?' Albus asked.

'Professor Athene Prewett,' Thomas said; a glint of pride in his eye. 'She teaches Charms. Professor Prewett is a very powerful witch. In fact, she is probably the most powerful witch in this room. Everyone knows she could destroy Headmaster Whingeas in a duel!'

Albus grinned. At that moment Professor Prewett caught his eye from the top table. Albus half expected her to burn him with her eyes, but she broke out into a smile which made her look considerably younger. Albus was pleased; at least his housemistress seemed to be a pleasant sort.

'Who is that strange witch sitting next to Mr Lupin?' Albus asked. The teacher sitting next to the groundskeeper had a huge mass of fluffy, curly reddish brown hair and enormous spectacles that seemed to cover half her face. Her robes seemed to be made from a hundred materials with different colours. Her arms were loaded with bracelets, her fingers were covered by dozens of monstrous rings and she wore at least fifty necklaces around her neck. She looked too showy to be real.

'Aha,' Thomas said with a chuckle, 'that is the Divination teacher, Professor Cassandra Trelawney. She is supposed to be a real Seer or something, but when I took her class in third year it was a total waste of time.'

'Naturally,' Albus said, nodding. Divination is such a woolly discipline, he thought. Albus knew that he would never get the pleasure of having Professor Trelawney as a teacher, because he was never going to take Divination as a subject.

Thomas continued to introduce the teachers to Albus. He learned that Professor Fudge, on top of being Deputy Headmaster and Slytherin Housemaster, was also the Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. A stalk-like, pale faced witch with dark hair and a very miserable expression, Professor Elvira Rookwood, was the Potions Mistress. A wizard with a square jaw and a handsome, golden mane of hair, Professor Leon Bones, was the Transfiguration teacher. A twitchy witch with a round face, Professor Juliet Longbottom, taught Herbology and Professor Beta Sinistra, a man with very pale eyes, taught Astronomy. From the looks of them, Albus decided, he was going to enjoy Charms and Transfiguration the most. He was bitterly disappointed that Professor Fudge was teaching Defence against the Dark Arts. Albus had been thoroughly looking forward to that subject.

Once the plates had been cleared five times to make way for the three main courses and the two helpings of dessert, a very full and extremely tired bunch of first years were called to follow Thomas Jones.

'It is time to head to Gryffindor tower,' Thomas said in a loud voice. Similar cries were coming from the prefects at the other three house tables. 'Follow me, stay close and listen when I say the password to the Fat Lady. If you forget it, it is your own bad luck and you will not be able to get into Gryffindor tower.'

Thomas led the ten Gryffindors up the moving marble staircases that led into the upper reaches of Hogwarts castle. They reached a picture of a fat lady in a fluffy pink dress, who had been drinking with her neighbouring paintings and looked quite red in the face.

'Snuff,' Thomas said.

'Yes, dear, I would love to sniff some,' the Fat Lady sang, hardly containing a burp. The first years giggled into their hands.

'No, "Snuff" is the password,' Thomas said irritably. The Fat Lady swung open and Thomas led the ten new Gryffindors into their common room for the first time. It was a homely room full of cosy looking chairs and couches, a blazing fireplace and comfortable rugs all over the floor.

'First year boys up that staircase, girls up that one,' Thomas said, pointing them on their way. Albus said goodnight to the girls and followed William, who had been the first to scamper up the stairwell to the bedroom that would belong to them for the next seven years.

Albus found a round room with five curtained beds against the walls. Their belongings had already been brought up and placed beside their respective beds. The five new dormitory mates stood in an awkward silence for a moment. Albus was the first with the courage to speak.

'Let me just say that I am very happy to be in Gryffindor with you, William, Mars, Alabastor and Edward,' Albus said. 'I hope we can be good mates for the next seven years, stick up for each other and stand up to people like Noxious Black and the Slytherin lot.'

'Hear, hear,' William and Mars chorused. Alabastor grinned at them all, nodding fervently. Edward finally had the nerve to smile. He still looked petrified, Albus noticed.

'Edward, you will be as good as the rest of us before the month is out,' Albus said, giving the redhead an encouraging smile. 'Do not listen to what people like Noxious Black say. I think muggles and half bloods can be better wizards than pure bloods, as I know you will be.'

Edward gave Albus a real smile, before the five boys started to climb into their night clothes. Before long all five were snuggled up underneath their comfortable bedspreads.

'Hey, Albus,' William called out through the darkness that had settled across the room once the candles had magically extinguished. 'Do you think that all of us will be able to beat Noxious Black in a duel by the end of the year?'

'I do not think so,' Albus said, smiling into the darkness. 'I know so.'

While Albus' four new roommates dozed off to sleep thinking happy thoughts of hexing Slytherins like Noxious Black into oozing blobs of slug and worm, Albus could only think about one thing. He was at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His journey to becoming the great wizard that everyone (the Sorting Hat included) seemed to think that he would become had begun at last.

Author's Note: I am really getting into this now, as Albus' story develops. I am still eager to read people's reviews to get feedback about whether people are interested in reading more. Thanks to dd9736 and Adrianna Ashke for their reviews. I'm glad that you both liked it and want to read on.


	4. The Pirates of Points Undeserved

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the world created by JK Rowling

"Even the oldest of men has a boy within them"

Chapter 3 – The Pirates of Points Undeserved

The first day of classes for the first years was action packed. The first year Gryffindors received their timetables from Professor Prewett at breakfast.

'Good morning, my new Gryffindors,' she said, smiling at them all. 'You will see that you have me for your first lesson today, Charms. Do not be late!'

Albus grinned at her, and then looked down to inspect his new timetable.

'We have a great morning!' William said, running his hands through his thick mop of dark hair, 'Charms then Transfiguration. But look at the afternoon!'

'Defence against the Dark Arts and then Potions,' Mars said with a shudder.

'Professor Fudge and then that Professor Rookwood woman,' Albus said, scratching his nose thoughtfully. 'Both of them look so dark … I wonder if we will be learning how to do dark spells and brew poisons.'

'That would be brilliant,' William began eagerly, but was swiftly interrupted by a dark-eyed glare from Victoria Moody.

'No it would not,' Victoria said, flicking her sandy yellow fringe over her ear. 'I do not care to learn dark spells. I came here to learn good ones.'

'I agree,' Albus said, nodding his head a little too hard in agreement with the pretty girl sitting opposite him at the Gryffindor table. 'Hogwarts is not meant to be a school for the dark arts. Only the Slytherins get any benefit out of learning dark magic.'

'What are you first years talking about?' interrupted Thomas Jones, the fifth year prefect. 'Fudge and Rookwood do not teach the Dark Arts at Hogwarts; even Professor Whingeas Black is not brave enough to let that happen. If the parents ever found out … no, they just teach you ordinary Defence against the Dark Arts and Potions. Mind you, they do not teach it very well. Sometimes I wonder if it would be profitable to curse the Defence against the Dark Arts post in order to get rid of Fudge and get a decent teacher in.'

Albus opened and closed his mouth like a fish, without any words coming out. He could not believe that a prefect could be so rebellious. Professor Fudge must really be bad, he thought. Just how bad, Albus was going to find out, but first he had an enjoyable morning of Charms and Transfiguration to look forward to.

Before breakfast was finished, a sudden rush of wind and a stir of wings announced the arrival of the morning post. Hundreds of owls flocked into the Great Hall, swooping and diving as they dropped their letters on the heads of the recipients. Albus was pleased to see his family owl, Cleopatra, diving towards him. The spotted owl with the royal Egyptian name dropped a letter from his parents which fell towards Albus' bowl of porridge. He managed to reach out and catch it before it hit his breakfast. Maggie Weasley was less fortunate. Her owl dropped a letter right in a flagon of pumpkin juice, which it promptly knocked over with a clumsy flutter of its wings. The pumpkin juice managed to splash Maggie in the face and cover her robes. With her flaming red hair and orange coloured pumpkin juice all over her, Maggie looked as though she was on fire. She burst into tears, but quick-thinking Thomas leaned over and vanished the pumpkin juice with a flick of his wand.

'Oh, thank you so much!' Maggie cried. Thomas waved it away, saying that it was an easy spell for a fifth year. Edward Stephenson gave Thomas an admiring look and expressed a desire to learn the vanishing spell as soon as possible.

'I am always spilling food on me,' he said sadly. 'I make a right fool of myself sometimes.' The first year Gryffindors had a merry little laugh over the whole pumpkin juice episode and made their way up to their first lesson in good spirits.

Professor Prewett was standing at the head of the classroom as the Gryffindors entered; a stern look on her face. She peered at the first years through her monocle forbiddingly. The Hufflepuffs entered the room soon after, looking more nervous than the Gryffindors because they had not yet seen Professor Prewett smile. Albus threw a wave at Davey Jones, his scrawny friend from Hufflepuff. Davey shot a nervous look at Professor Prewett before waving meekly back.

'Good morning, first years,' Professor Prewett said. 'Welcome to Charms. This is a subject that requires hours and hours of devoted practice and concentration. Sloppy wand work leads to sloppy magic. In order to become a skilled witch or wizard, you need to become proficient at Charms. As such, I expect all of you to be punctual and to complete your homework on time, at all times. Is that understood?'

'Yes, Professor Prewett,' the class responded glumly. Professor Prewett looked genuinely surprised at the class' lack of excitement and broke into her first smile. As it had the previous night, Albus noticed that it made her look ten years younger.

'Charms can be terrific fun,' Professor Prewett said earnestly. 'Provided you work hard and do your homework, I assure you that every minute you spend in this class will be worthwhile.'

As if to show the class that she meant this, Professor Prewett cast a charm on Elizabeth Figg's _The Standard Book of Spells – Grade One_. It flew up into the air and started flitting around the room, beating its covers like a bird might beat its wings. The class broke out into applause when the book started chirping and singing.

'Do not get too excited,' Professor Prewett said firmly, although the twinkle in her eyes gave away how pleased she was that the class liked her spell. 'It will be a long time before any of you will be charming books and making them fly around the room, not until fourth year at the earliest.'

Albus immediately had an idea that filled him with excitement. He thought out a plan in his head while Professor Prewett carried on talking to the class.

'Now today is your very first lesson, so I would like you all to turn to page four in your Grade One textbook and examine the wand movement for a levitating spell. Now as you can see, the charm _Wingardium Leviosa_ requires that you perform a swish and flick. Watch as I demonstrate the way in which you need to hold your wands …'

Albus leaned over to whisper in William's ear. Mars and Alabastor were sitting close enough to hear him.

'I think I can learn how to make a textbook fly and flap its covers by the end of the lesson,' Albus said. 'If you, Mars and Alabastor can spend the lesson learning how to make it sing, then I bet we can show Professor Prewett that her Gryffindors are far better than she thinks we are.'

William, Mars and Alabastor were shocked by Albus' confidence in both himself and them, but did not have the chance to answer. Professor Prewett had rounded on Albus with a glare through her monocle that could have set fire to his robes.

'Dumbledore, seeing as you do not care to listen to my lesson, let us see you attempt to levitate this feather,' Professor Prewett snapped as she slapped a feather on to Albus' desk.

With an almost bored look on his face, Albus tenderly picked up his beautiful willow wand with the correct technique, and steadied it in the direction of the feather.

'Wingardium leviosa,' Albus said, with a perfect swish and flick. The feather lifted into the air, and with Albus' careful guidance, it floated around the room and landed safely in Professor Prewett's hands.

'Five points to Gryffindor,' she said; a look of pride on her face. 'Now Potter, you were busy listening to Dumbledore instead of me, so let us see what you can do.'

William looked quite desperate as Professor Prewett placed the feather on his desk. Albus withdrew his hand and his wand into the sleeve of his robes, ready to help William out. At the same instant that William gave a nervous swish and flick, Albus did the same, muttering the incantation under his breath. The feather rose into the air. William gave a whoop of joy, hardly believing that he had done it.

'Five points from Gryffindor,' Professor Prewett snapped and snatched the feather out of the air. The look of pleasure faded from William's face. 'When I ask Potter to do a Charm, try not to do it for him, Dumbledore. I am neither blind nor stupid.'

Albus could not help but grin at William, who grinned back. As soon as Professor Prewett had turned her back on them, William, Mars and Alabastor brought their heads close to Albus'.

'That was terrific,' William said. 'Next time try not to let her see when you help me do a spell! This way I should never get a detention for not being able to do something!'

'You will help us out, too, won't you?' Alabastor asked. Albus nodded.

'Very well, what are we waiting for?' Mars said. 'Albus, you figure out how to make a book fly like a bird and we will work out how to make it sing!'

With sly glances at Professor Prewett every few minutes to make sure that she was not coming their way, the four boys flicked through _The Standard Book of Spells – Grade One_ in search of the charms to use. When their first year text book failed to be of any help, William pretended to burn his feather as an excuse to come up to the teacher's desk and fetch another one. While he was walking back, he secretly slipped a copy of _The Standard Book of Spells – Grade Four_ from Professor Prewett's bookcase into his robes.

'Brilliant thinking there,' Alabastor said, patting William on the back as he handed it to Albus. Within moments Albus had found and memorised the spells for making a book fly and flap its covers like wings. He handed the book back to the other three so that they could figure out how to make it sing. While they did so, Albus quietly made his own textbook flutter around underneath his desk.

'How did you get so good at spells?' Edward asked. The fifth Gryffindor boy had been watching Albus with his mouth wide open.

'I have a very powerful wand,' Albus said modestly. 'It has nothing to do with me. Besides, I have grown up in a wizarding family. Do not worry, you will catch up soon. Have you got the hang of the levitating spell yet?'

Albus saw that Edward had no idea how to hold a wand or perform the spell. With patience and friendly smiles of encouragement, Albus showed Edward the right way until he had managed to levitate his feather up to the ceiling.

'Well done, Stephenson,' Professor Prewett called over from her desk. 'Five points to Gryffindor. Five points to you, Dumbledore, for being such a good teacher. And what on EARTH are you three doing?'

William, Alabastor and Mars had just managed to explode William's _The Standard Book of Spells – Grade One._

'Er … sorry, Professor,' William said, flushing red as he came up with a lie. 'I was trying to levitate my textbook and I said Win_burn_ium leviosa instead.'

Professor Prewett gave William a very suspicious sort of look, but walked over to help Davey and another Hufflepuff with their spellwork.

'What did you do?' Albus asked, turning to William.

'Tried to make it sing, of course,' William said, pointing to the instructions in the Grade Four text. 'The spell says _Aria avis_, and I'm supposed to twirl my wand three times anticlockwise and then slash it diagonally.'

'No, that's not how you do it,' Albus said. He took out his wand, pointed it at the textbook and performed the spell. 'Aria avis.'

Suddenly a loud chittering and tweeting was coming from the textbook on William's desk. Albus realised that he did not know how to do a Silencing Charm. Professor Prewett and all the other students in the class turned to look. Albus realised that he had no choice but to make the book fly and flap its wings. The moment had arrived.

'Wingardium leviosa,' he said; with a swish and a flick. The book rose into the air. 'Mobilis avis.' The book started flapping its covers like wings. Albus directed the book around the room, as it flapped and fluttered and cheeped and twittered. William, Mars, Alabastor and Edward broke into applause, and soon the entire class was cheering and clapping at Albus' feat of magic. Professor Prewett watched the entire performance with a grim expression on her face and a squint in her monocled eye. She did not speak until Albus had sent the Grade Four textbook fluttering out the window and into the sunny blue sky outside.

'That will be all for today,' she said bluntly. 'All of you may go, with the exception of Mr Dumbledore.'

Everyone in the class grinned at Albus as they left. Their grins were friendly, he noticed. Nobody seemed to be grinning because he was about to get into trouble. He was particularly satisfied by the sweet smile that Victoria Moody gave him as she walked past his desk.

At last Albus was alone with Professor Prewett. She stood at the window of the classroom, apparently watching the textbook as it flew away.

'Come here, Dumbledore,' she said. Albus made his way over to where the teacher stood; a tight feeling in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he had been too reckless in trying to copy the teacher's fancy spell-work. He hoped against hope that he was not going to end up in detention, suffering one of the caretaker's six hundred and sixty six punishments. When he got to the window he saw that the book had all but disappeared over the horizon. His heart sank.

'You are a very gifted young wizard, Albus,' Professor Prewett said. Albus was surprised to hear her call him by his first name. 'I must warn you not to go parading your talents around like that. It will not do you any good. I will give you extension work in class to make sure that I am catering for your abilities, but please do not show off like that again. There are other ways to spend all your energy. Do I make myself clear?'

'Yes, Professor Prewett,' Albus said meekly. He gathered from the teacher's silence that he was now free to go. He made his way to the door as quickly as possible, but was stopped in his tracks by Professor Prewett's voice.

'Oh, and Dumbledore,' she said lightly, 'twenty points to Gryffindor for the best Charms lesson by a first year in the history of Hogwarts.'

Albus could not keep the grin off his face as he entered the Transfiguration classroom for the second lesson of the day. The other four Gryffindor boys immediately wanted to know what had happened. Albus revealed that he had won more points for Gryffindor but said nothing else. He realised that he needed to stop showing off from now on, and decided not to outclass all the other first years quite so thoroughly in the future. Professor Prewett's words stuck with him, however. _There are other ways to spend all your energy._ He wondered just what those ways might be.

The Gryffindors shared Transfiguration with Ravenclaw. All twenty students waited eagerly for the arrival of their teacher, Professor Leon Bones. He arrived with a gleam of a smile on his face, the morning sun catching in his golden crop of hair.

'Welcome to Transfiguration,' he said, with a growl of a voice. 'This is a very complex branch of magic and one that requires a certain level of natural ability but ships full of hard work and dedication. I expect that the talented Gryffindors and the intelligent Ravenclaws in this room will become experts at Transfiguration, if you put in the necessary effort.'

With a sudden swirl of his robes, Professor Bones transfigured into a magnificent, tawny coloured lion. He let out a fabulous roar, which made the ornaments on the shelves shudder. Maggie Weasley and Annabel Bradshaw both let out screeches and several of the Ravenclaw girls grabbed each other in frightened hugs. Before anyone could get too scared, Professor Bones transfigured back into himself.

'Quite an effect,' he said proudly, 'but rather useless in England as there are no lions here. I stand out like a sore thumb. It was rather useful when I visited Africa, I must say.'

William leaned over to Albus, his eyes glowing.

'So, do you think you'll be transfiguring into a lion by the end of this lesson?'

'I think not,' Albus said honestly, laughing. Transfiguration would not be quite as easy as Charms, but Albus knew that willow was a good wand for transfiguring things.

The task for the lesson was to transfigure a ball of cotton wool into one of the latest sweets to hit the market: Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans.

'If you perform the spell correctly,' Professor Bones explained, 'you'll be able to leave this room chewing on your favourite flavour. If not, you might find yourself chewing tar or something similarly unpleasant.'

Albus was the first in the class to transfigure his ball of cotton wool into a sweet, but spat it out the moment he tried to taste it.

'Alas,' he said sadly, 'Earwax.'

From that point on, Albus chose not to participate in the transfiguring of cotton wool balls into sweets. He had developed a lifetime's dislike for Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans.

The Gryffindors ate lunch in extremely high spirits. The first years gladly recounted the story of Albus charming the Grade Four textbook to fly and sing like a bird, to anyone who would listen, and chattered amongst themselves about the different flavours of bean that they had concocted in Transfiguration.

'Mine turned brown, but it still tasted like cotton wool,' Edward Stephenson lamented.

'You're lucky,' Victoria said, 'mine stayed white and tasted like blackboard chalk.'

'I do not know what you lot are complaining about,' William said in a lofty voice while he ran his hand through his hair, 'mine turned brown and tasted like …'

'We do not need to know, thank you William,' Albus said, before William could do lasting damage to the appetites of him and the other first years. 'We are trying to have lunch here.'

Defence against the Dark Arts was the lesson following lunch. To Albus' dismay, he discovered that Gryffindor were going to have to share the lesson with the Slytherins.

'Talk about bad luck,' Mars complained as they waited outside the classroom. 'Not only do we get the Slytherin housemaster, but we have to put up with the Slytherins as well.'

'Get used to it,' Noxious Black drawled, sidling up between the Gryffindors with a smirk on his face. 'No guesses as to who will be winning house points in this class, and who will be _losing_ them.' He smirked at Albus as he walked past, Isabella Malfoy and Frederick Bode almost glued to his shoulders.

Mars and William both had their wands out, pointed at Noxious' back. Hearing footsteps, which he guessed were Professor Fudge's, Albus pushed his friends' wands down. Another idea had just popped into his head.

'Leave it for later,' he said. 'I know how we can get the Slytherins, without getting into trouble.'

Professor Fudge ordered the first years into the classroom. William, Mars, Alabastor and Edward all threw Albus curious looks, but he shook his head. He would reveal his plot to them at the end of the lesson.

'First year Slytherins,' Professor Fudge said, giving his pets the best smile that his bulldog face would allow, 'and first year Gryffindors,' (The smile had vanished) 'as you know, Defence against the Dark Arts is one of the most important subjects you will be learning at Hogwarts. At first year level, I can only teach you to defend yourself against relatively harmless spells and creatures. We will begin by examining Hinkypunks.'

At this point Professor Fudge began to drone on in a dull and boring way about the origins of Hinkypunks and why they were barely a threat to a muggle or a squib, let alone a witch or wizard. He occasionally interrupted his lecture with a question, usually easy, and always directed at a Slytherin. Whether they answered right or wrong, Professor Fudge always awarded them with five or ten points for the House Championship. Around halfway through the lesson, Albus (who had been keeping count), finally lost his patience.

'He has given Noxious Black fifty points so far this lesson,' Albus hissed at his friends, 'and all the Slytherins together have won one hundred and twenty points! It is not fair!'

'Now I see why they have won the Championship ten years running,' William said miserably.

Albus could wait no longer to spill the beans on the idea that he had had. Professor Prewett had said; _there are other ways to spend all your energy._ If he was not allowed to show off his magical abilities in class or in public, then he decided that it was right to use his magical abilities for another, better purpose: to undermine the Slytherins at every opportunity.

'Listen to me,' Albus said, getting Edward, William, Mars and Alabastor to pull their heads closer together. 'I have an idea for a secret organisation that we can form for the next seven years. We will spend every day thinking up new pranks to play on the Slytherins to make them lose the points that they get for free; and to make Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff have a laugh a day for the next seven years.'

The looks of admiration on the other Gryffindor boys' faces were enough to tell Albus that all four were in, and all four wanted to start working their magic as soon as possible.

Their opportunity came in the next lesson; Potions, with Professor Elvira Rookwood. The stalk-like teacher with dark hair, a pale face and a constantly miserable expression on her face, was not much different to Professor Fudge. While she did not award as many points to Slytherin as their housemaster did, she too lectured in a flat and boring monotone while the class stirred the various ingredients into their Cleansing Potion.

'First years get detentions all the time,' Professor Rookwood droned, 'and a common punishment is to clean the desks. The Cleansing Potion will serve you well in your many detentions.'

Albus was watching Noxious Black out of the corner of his eye, as Noxious added a vial of stinksap to his bubbling cauldron.

'Time to make the bird flap its wings,' Albus whispered to the others, all of whom were watching eagerly.

'Wingardium leviosa,' Albus said under his breath, wand pointed at Noxious' cauldron. 'Mobilis avis.'

Noxious' cauldron flew up into the air and started swaying from side to side. Large globs of stinksap plopped on to the heads of Noxious and Isabella and Frederick, who were sitting either side of him. The other Slytherins were quickly out of their chairs, clutching their noses and waving their hands through the air to fan the stench back towards the three victims of Albus' prank. Before Professor Rookwood could turn around from the blackboard, Albus let the cauldron crash to the floor, making it look like Noxious had just been clumsy.

'Ten points from Slytherin for being an idiot, Black,' Professor Rookwood said disapprovingly. 'Snape and Ogilvy, you can help these three fools clean up their mess. The rest of you are dismissed. Your homework is to write out three feet of parchment on the correct instructions for making a Cleansing Potion.'

Albus and the Gryffindors had to hold back their laughter until they were in the corridor and out of earshot. The corridor rang out with bellows and giggles of merriment.

'That was absolutely marvellous,' Mars said glowingly.

'Smashing,' Alabastor agreed.

'Albus is the greatest,' William added.

'You did that?' Emily Marchbanks asked Albus. He nodded guiltily. She added, 'that was quite brilliant.'

'I did not like that Noxious Black from the moment he first opened his mouth,' Maggie Weasley said. But best of all for Albus, was when Victoria Moody said her piece.

'I do not know where you learned to do magic like that, Albus,' Victoria said with a grin in his direction, 'but that was perfectly wonderful.'

Albus grinned, the widest he had done all day.

'That was only the beginning,' he said, beaming at all of them. 'From now on we seek to win points back from Slytherin whenever we can. You five girls can join us boys if you want to, everyone is welcome.'

The other nine nodded their consent, although the half bloods Elizabeth Figg and Annabel Bradshaw were not entirely convinced.

'From this day forward,' Albus declared in his boldest voice, 'I declare us to be, most officially and formally, the Guardians of Gryffindor, of Justice and Victory, Defenders of Truth and Pirates of Points Undeserved.'

The ten Gryffindors brought their wands together in a symbolic circle of unity and whooped at their stand against the unjust and downright biased Hogwarts House Championship points system. Albus knew that he was starting a movement that would change everything for the better. It was a great day for Hogwarts.

Authors Note – Once again, thanks to all those who have written reviews. The latest reviews from Spaghetti O's, Adrianna Ashke and mekareQ are much appreciated. Keep the reviews coming, readers! I still feel like I need a few more people following this story before it is worth writing the whole thing! I hope you are all enjoying it so far. I am definitely having fun writing it.


	5. The Day Prewett Lost It

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the world created by JK Rowling

"The trick is in the eye of the beholder"

Chapter 4 – The Day Prewett Lost It

Albus Dumbledore's first two weeks at Hogwarts could not have been more fun had it rained Fizzing Whizzbees (his favourite sweets) from the ceiling of the Great Hall every single day. The other first years in The Guardians of Gryffindor, of Justice and Victory, Defenders of Truth and Pirates of Points Undeserved; took to their new club with enormous enthusiasm. Albus, of course, was the only one who really knew how to do any good spells, but it gave people like Edward and Annabel enormous pleasure to think that they were part of a group trying to bring arrogant pure bloods like Noxious Black down to earth.

The first year Gryffindors started calling themselves the Pirates of Points Undeserved, or just the Pirates. Albus was the natural leader, and he set down some rules one Saturday afternoon by the lake in the Hogwarts grounds. There were a couple of young trees which provided the first years with some shelter from the glowing September sunshine. Everyone in Hogwarts was basking in the sunshine, but nobody was sitting anywhere near the Pirates.

'We have got to keep our noses clean,' Albus explained to his friends, careful to keep his voice down. 'There is no point in getting the Slytherins to lose points if we lose lots of points from Gryffindor because of all our pranks.'

'How are we supposed to stop that from happening?' Emily Marchbanks said; her grey eyes narrowed at Albus. 'None of us are as good at hiding our magic as you.'

'Yes, even Albus got caught using magic by Professor Prewett when he tried to help William,' Elizabeth Figg said.

'Nobody asked you to join the Pirates,' William said defensively. He ran his hand angrily through his thick black hair, glaring at the girls.

'I asked them to join,' Albus said. He smiled at all of them. 'I know that we cannot keep our pranks secret. That is why I am going to set down some rules for The Guardians of Gryffindor, of Justice and Victory, Defenders of Truth and Pirates of Points Undeserved.'

'Rules?' cried William, Alabastor and Mars. Albus' three main friends did not look too happy at the idea of having set boundaries for their fun.

'Yes, rules,' Albus said. His blue eyes took turns piercing each of the other nines'. 'The first rule is; never do the same prank more than once. That way we keep everyone on their toes, including us. The second rule is; everyone in the Pirates must know about the prank before we do it. That is so that nobody does just what they want to, whenever they feel like it. The third rule is; we only do one prank a week.'

'Only one!' cried William, horrified.

'Only one,' Albus said. 'We also have homework to do, and pranks take a lot of time and work to prepare. If we do too many pranks, we will get careless and make mistakes. Rule number four is that we cannot tell anyone else about the Pirates. This is just for Gryffindor first years, not anyone else. We have to keep our identity secret. I mean, nobody is going to suspect first year Gryffindors of causing chaos, especially if I can perform some tricky fourth and fifth year spells. And the last rule is this; do not do any spells in the open, where teachers could catch us. That especially means no duels with Slytherins. If we get caught doing that, we could be expelled. So does everyone agree with the rules?'

There was a moment of silence while the first year Gryffindors thought about Albus' cleverly thought out plan.

'So, the rules are,' William said, 'do not repeat pranks, make sure all the Pirates know about pranks, only one prank a week, do not tell anyone else about the Pirates and no duels with Slytherins or magic in the corridors.'

'Yes, exactly,' Albus said. 'Now does everyone agree?'

The other Pirates nodded. Albus passed around a scroll of parchment for each of them to sign. When it was finished the scroll read:

THE MOSTE HONORABLE GUARDIANS OF GRYFFINDOR, OF JUSTICE AND VICTORY, DEFENDERS OF TRUTH AND PIRATES OF POINTS UNDESERVED

Albus Dumbledore (founder)

Mars McGonagall

Victoria Moody

William Potter

Alabastor Meadowes

Maggie Weasley

Edward Stephenson

Emily Marchbanks

Elizabeth Figg

Annabel Bradshaw

WE ALL DO HEREBY AGREE TO ABIDE BY THE RULES AND TERMS SET DOWN BY THE FOUNDER ON THIS DAY, SEPTEMBER THE SEVENTH, IN THE YEAR EIGHTEEN FIFTY TWO

'This is a binding magical contract,' Albus explained. 'I will place a small jinx on this parchment so that if any of you tell someone else about the Pirates, then you will get incurable boils or something horrible like that.'

The other nine shuddered at the thought. Albus made a note in his head to find a spell that caused incurable boils. He had said enough anyway. All nine the other Pirates were scared to death by Albus' threat and he thought it unlikely that any of them would risk testing his magical abilities by breaking the contract.

So the Pirates of Points Undeserved set to work. Each night in their corner of the Gryffindor common room, once scrolls of Potions or Defence against the Dark Arts homework had been set aside, mischievous heads would come together to discuss the next prank. To avoid the suspicion of the other Gryffindors, only two or three would talk at a time, while the other seven or eight pretended to work on their homework.

The pranks were, at first, quite simple ones, like dropping Stink Pellets in Slytherin school bags, which Albus jinxed with a delayed explosion charm. After ten or so minutes, the foulest stench came from the Slytherin side of the Defence against the Dark Arts room. Even Professor Fudge, who never took points from Slytherin, was forced to act.

'What hare brained idiot brought Stink Pellets to class?' Professor Fudge demanded. 'Thirty points from Slytherin. Get out, the lot of you!'

As time passed, the Pirates' pranks grew bolder and more adventurous. One afternoon William (who was developing a talent for getting things when the Pirates needed them), overheard Thomas Jones, Gryffindor's fifth year prefect, talking about a painting in a downstairs corridor that let you into the kitchens if you tickled a pear. This, combined with Albus learning a charm to make food fly into the face of whoever tried to eat it, gave the Pirates a brilliant idea for their most dramatic prank yet.

So, one afternoon before dinner, Albus, William, Mars and Alabastor snuck off down to the kitchens. Alabastor waited outside to watch for anyone coming in their direction. Inside, the other three were virtually attacked by a hundred house elves, all desperate to present them with pies and cakes to take back to Gryffindor.

'You need to distract them,' Albus whispered to the other two.

'Can we have some tea, please?' William asked. 'If you have any spotted dick, I would be most inclined …'

'Could I have some more of those raspberry tarts?' added Mars. The house elves immediately started swarming about, trying to see to Mars and William's demands. Albus managed to slip away, tiptoeing towards the four long tables in the middle of the room. The kitchen was a high room which appeared to lie exactly underneath the Great Hall. Albus worked out which table was the Slytherin one. He knew that the countless plates of steaming food which sat on the table would be magicked up to the house tables in the Great Hall when dinner began. All he had to do was to jinx the Slytherin dinners.

'Mobilis tabulam,' Albus said; swirling his wand at a tray covered with pies. He walked along the Slytherin table, jinxing every plate of food that he could. Eventually a dozen house elves came scurrying up to him, offering trays full of sandwiches. Albus slipped his wand into his pocket, gladly accepted a ham sandwich and led William and Mars out of the kitchen, wearing a triumphant grin.

The Pirates went to dinner with barely contained enthusiasm. They were all in on the plan, as per the rules of their magical contract. Albus had to warn them not to look too obvious.

'Keep your eyes on your plates,' Albus hissed under his breath. 'If the Slytherins see all ten of us looking at them when they start eating, then they will know that it was us who jinxed their food.'

Even Albus could not help himself. He kept his head down but peered cautiously through his eyebrows in the direction of the Slytherin table. Sure enough, when the food appeared on the house tables, the fun began.

A terrific ruckus was happening at the Slytherin table. Everyone in Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor turned around to see what was going on. Food was flying up from the Slytherin table, slapping people in the face. The Pirates were delighted to see that Isabella Malfoy was drenched in pumpkin juice from head to toe. Frederick Bode was screaming in agony as gravy splashed him in the eye. But best of all was the sight of Noxious Black, being attacked by a whole tray of potatoes. The potatoes did not give up, even when Noxious fell on his back. They kept on peppering his face. The strange thing, as far as everyone who was watching could see (except the Pirates of course), was that food only moved when a Slytherin touched it. Anyone watching would have said that the Slytherins were having a food fight.

'IMMOBILIS!' bellowed Professor Prewett. Her commanding spell put an end to Albus' trickery. The Slytherins looked up at the head table, totally bewildered and dripping gravy, juice and pieces of food to the ground.

'That is utterly disgraceful behaviour!' yelled Professor Prewett. She rounded on the Headmaster with a look that could have killed. Clearly she expected him to act.

'I have never been more ashamed of Slytherin,' Professor Black said heavily, although Albus could have sworn the Headmaster had no interest in punishing his favourite house. 'You are all to return to Slytherin House, where Professor Fudge will, I am sure, have suitable punishments for you.'

Professor Prewett looked ready to spew fire. Professor Black sighed.

'And a hundred points from Slytherin,' the Headmaster said in a resigned voice.

Once the dejected Slytherins had trudged from the Great Hall, looking utterly woebegone, the other three houses burst into spontaneous chatter and laughter. Somehow the word got around that a mysterious organisation called "The Pirates" were responsible, although none of the Gryffindor first years was wearing incurable boils. Albus had to wonder whether he had made a mistake with his binding magical contract spell, but was relieved that nobody knew that the first years were to blame. Even so, it was the best dinner that the Gryffindors had ever enjoyed. The Slytherins had been disgraced. Their lead in the House Championship had been cut to two hundred points, the smallest it had been in ten years. The whole school (except the Slytherins, of course), was delighted by Slytherin's unusual slide in fortunes, and the name of the Pirates had been started on the road to being legendary.

The Pirates' reign as terrors of Hogwarts nearly came to a sudden and disastrous end, however, on a sunny Saturday, less than a week after the Slytherin's defeat by their dinners. The five Gryffindor boys had been lazing around in the Gryffindor common room on Friday evening, trying to think of a new prank to play. It had been William who had come up with the idea.

'Remember when Albus helped me to levitate that feather under the cover of his robes?' William said.

'Yes we do,' Alabastor said. 'What are you thinking?'

'Well, what if Albus "ran into" Noxious Black in the corridors and started to duel him, except that Noxious could not see where the spells were coming from?' William suggested.

'That makes no sense,' Alabastor said.

'No, I think it does,' Mars said. 'But we would have to make a fake hand for Albus, so that it looked like his two hands were outside of his robes and not holding a wand.'

'That is what I mean,' William insisted. He turned to face Albus. 'Albus, could you transfigure something into a fake arm?'

Albus had to think about this for a while. They were not really supposed to duel in the corridors, according to their magical contract. But William's idea was tempting. His boils spell had obviously not worked on the contract, so there was no harm in trying, he thought.

'I think I could transfigure the sleeve of one of my robes into something that looked like an arm,' Albus said. 'If anyone tried to feel it or look at it, they would see that it was a fake, because I am not anywhere near that good at transfiguration yet.'

So the plan was set, although this time, Albus had a strange feeling in his stomach. Somehow this plan did not seem as solid or as clever as the other ones.

The following afternoon, the Saturday, was a sunny one. Mars and Alabastor were sent to spy on the Slytherin first years, who were enjoying what might be one of the last days of summer. The plan was that they were to alert Albus when Noxious headed back to the Entrance Hall by sending Fawkes. The brilliant crimson bird would be able to get from William to Albus in an instant. Then, knowing that Noxious was always accompanied by Frederick and Isabella, William and Mars had to cast a ripping spell on Frederick and Isabella's robes. With any luck, the two would have to run off, embarrassed by the sudden tears in their robes.

Albus paced the entrance hall nervously, keeping his fake arm tightly clenched under his right armpit. The fake arm protruded from his robes, the "hand" doing nothing but sticking out in front of Albus' stomach. His real right hand was hidden under the robe, clutching his wand and ready for action.

Fawkes appeared in a flash of flame. Albus' throat grew tight. If everything was going to plan, Noxious was on his way. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Frederick and Isabella came tearing past, clutching their torn robes. A minute later Noxious Black came storming into the Entrance Hall, looking thoroughly irritated.

'What are _you_ doing here?' Noxious snapped. He made as though he wanted to storm past Albus and head off towards the Slytherin dungeons.

'No need to be so rude,' Albus said calmly. He muttered an incantation under his breath, _'Furnunculus'_. Instantly a set of horrible pus-filled boils appeared on Noxious' face.

'What did you do?' he yelled furiously.

'What are you talking about?' Albus replied calmly. He muttered another charm under his breath; _'Pinna majoris'._ Noxious' hands grabbed at his ears, which were growing at a terrific rate. Within seconds Noxious' ears were reaching up towards the roof like rabbit ears. Noxious could not take it any longer. He snatched his wand from his robes and hurled a hex at Albus, who deftly stepped aside. It missed him and struck the banister of the stairwell, leaving a scorch mark on the marble. Noxious threw another spell, which grazed Albus' robes but hit one of the suits of armour, sending it crashing into another suit of arms, and another, and another, until the hall rung with the clanging of dozens of suits of armour smashing to the floor.

Professor Fudge and Professor Prewett were the first teachers to the scene. Professor Prewett scrutinised the scene through her monocle, peering down at the pair of duelling first years. Professor Fudge was not interested in finding out what was going on.

'Hexing a fellow first year with the ear-growing curse and the furnunculus curse,' he roared, pointing at Albus with a look of rage on his bulldog face. 'That is fifty points from Gryffindor, and I will be writing to your parents! I have a mind to have you expelled!'

'Fifty points from Slytherin, Black, for damaging centuries old suits of armour and leaving scorch marks on the marble,' Professor Prewett said swiftly. 'And I don't see how you can take points from Gryffindor when Dumbledore is clearly not holding a wand. Fifty points to Gryffindor, for minding your own business, Dumbledore.'

Professor Fudge looked incensed. He glared up at Professor Prewett, who was still standing at the top of the marble staircase, his bulldog face turning beetroot red.

'One hundred points from Gryffindor,' Professor Fudge snarled. 'Dumbledore is clearly using dark magic to hex Black!'

'Oh, is that so?' Professor Prewett screeched, advancing down the staircase like a werewolf ready to attack its prey. 'Two hundred points to Dumbledore for being the first student in the history of Hogwarts to master the dark arts in his first year. Two hundred points from Slytherin for Black being unable to defend himself against the dark arts that his family have illegally practiced for the last eight centuries!'

Professor Fudge looked set to explode. Albus noticed, for the first time, that just about everyone in Hogwarts was standing around the Entrance Hall, watching the dramatic battle of wills between the Gryffindor housemistress and the Slytherin housemaster.

'Three hundred points from Gryffindor,' Professor Fudge panted, his eyes darting around as he searched for a reason, 'for jinxing the Slytherin dinner the other night!'

'When you do not even have a shred of proof?' Professor Prewett roared. 'Five hundred points from Slytherin for being the house that has produced more dark wizards than any other house in the history of Hogwarts put together!'

Suddenly Professor Black swept into the middle of the Entrance Hall, his face purple. He gave Noxious a look of disgust, an even less wholesome look at Albus, and then came in between Professors Prewett and Fudge, who looked ready to come to blows.

'THAT WILL DO!' he roared. 'Do you BOTH wish to be fired? Get to my office at once – this is an utterly shameful display in front of the students.'

A livid Professor Black led Professors Prewett and Fudge off in the direction of the Headmaster's office. Noxious, whose ears were now scratching the chandelier, hurried off towards the hospital wing, followed by a torrent of laughter. Albus' feet stayed fixed to the ground, his wand arm still hidden under the fake arm that was sticking out of his robe.

And then someone noticed the house points on the wall. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff boasted respectable totals of a little more than two hundred points each. Gryffindor's column was completely empty, but that did not seem to matter when the eyes of everyone in Hogwarts turned to Slytherin's pile. There was nothing there. Professor Prewett's five hundred point penalty had emptied Slytherin's tally of every unfairly earned point, and every fairly earned point too.

Then it came, like the swell of a wave as it surges towards sea, a roar of triumph and the thunder of hundreds of feet stamping and hundreds of pairs of hands clapping. Dozens of people descended upon Albus, lifting him into the air and cheering madly. His fake arm fell off and was trampled by a hundred people, but that did not matter anymore. Albus was surprised to see that even the Gryffindors were celebrating the fall of Slytherin. Nobody seemed to care that Gryffindor had also lost all its points, but as Albus supposed, they had been losing points for no reason for ten years. All that mattered was that Slytherin had lost the lead in the House Championship for the first time since Phineas Nigellus Black had become Headmaster.

It had been the Pirates of Points Undeserved's greatest achievement, but as Albus thought to himself afterwards, it had nearly been their undoing. He had come extremely close to being expelled, and had Professor Prewett's now famous temper not come to the rescue, he might well be packing his bags already.

Gryffindor celebrated until one o'clock in the morning. Even Professor Prewett came along and drank a few butterbeers with the seventh years who had sneaked them in.

'You are not getting fired, are you Professor?' someone had yelled.

'No I certainly am not!' Professor Prewett said; rather loudly. 'And if I see anyone from Gryffindor failing to celebrate this moment, then they will have me to answer to.'

Eventually she had made them go to bed, at which time Albus had decided to make an announcement to his fellow Pirates.

'No more pranks,' Albus said; once the first year boys were in their bedroom. He planned to tell the girls later, 'at least, not for a while anyway.'

'Why not?' asked William. 'This was the greatest day ever!'

'I know, but I came this close to being expelled,' Albus said. 'We have done what we set out to achieve. Slytherin have no points left. Let us keep our heads down for a month or two. We still have seven years left at Hogwarts; we do not want to be thrown out before we have learned any decent spells to hex the Slytherins with.'

Albus' sentiments went down well with the others. None of them had learned even half of the hexes that Albus knew, and they all wanted to be able to make Noxious Black's ears touch the chandelier in the Entrance Hall before luck caught up with them and had them expelled.

After "The Day Prewett Lost It and Slytherin Lost It Also", as the now legendary incident became known at Hogwarts, Albus was a hero to the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs. Strangely enough, none of the Slytherins seemed angry with Albus (except Noxious, of course). They had all seen the drama with their own eyes. Albus had clearly had no wand in his hand, and no first year could do magic without a wand. In fact, Noxious seemed to take the blame from the Slytherins. They were furious that a first year had cost them all their points. The strain started to show on Noxious. For a while, anyway, he was a lot quieter around the corridors and in class. All he ever did was to throw venomous looks at Albus, who replied with a glittering smile and a twinkle in the eye every time.

As everyone had expected, Professor Fudge was quick to restore Slytherin to the top of the House Championship. He handed out twenty points to any Slytherin who answered a question in class, and even went so far as to award Isabella Malfoy fifty points for looking pretty. Fortunately Professor Prewett was also unusually generous, and Gryffindor had soon managed to collect together a few hundred points so that they were not left too far behind.

Nobody in the school was surprised by Slytherin's resurgence, of course, but there was a new sense of purpose as students from other houses tried to win points in classes. Slytherin at last looked beatable, and while nobody had yet connected Albus with the now legendary Pirates, everyone knew that Slytherin were vulnerable and ready for a fall; especially with the approach of the traditional opening match in the annual Quidditch competition: Slytherin versus Gryffindor.

Even though first years never got into the house quidditch teams, Albus and his friends spent every minute of their spare time on broomsticks. Back in 1851, first years were still permitted to have broomsticks at Hogwarts. It was just common knowledge that you needed to be older, bigger and stronger to play competitive quidditch. This did not stop the Pirates from engaging in some terrific games in the Hogwarts grounds, using enchanted pinecones as playing balls. The two younger Jones brothers, Gareth and Davey, from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, sometimes joined in to boost the numbers.

As Albus daydreamed during the tedious lessons of the ghost Professor Binns in History of Magic, playing quidditch for the house team would be fantastic; especially if they beat Slytherin, because, thanks to Albus and the Pirates of Points Undeserved, if Gryffindor could win that game against Slytherin, they would overtake them on the House Championship table.

Authors Note: I am having a wonderful time writing this story. Once again, thanks to my reviewers … Xpd, SammyStar, William the Bloody Spike, dd9736 and Adrianna Ashke. Keep those reviews coming!

I need to deal with a 'correction' made by Adrianna Ashke. Now, as far as I have always understood it, in order to be in the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, you needed to have been born with the surname Black. eg. Bellatrix Black, later Bellatrix Lestrange. So I have always assumed that Phineas Nigellus had the surname Black as well. For the purposes of continuity (as I have called his son Noxious Black), and for the sake of getting new readers to link Phineas Nigellus Black with the House of Black, I am going to keep it that way. Thank you for your valuable input, nonetheless, Adrianna.


	6. The Youngest in More than a Century

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the world created by JK Rowling

"When a boy spreads his wings and flies …"

* * *

Chapter 5 – The Youngest in More than a Century

The opening match of the annual Quidditch competition was to take place on the second Saturday of October. Nerves were high in both Gryffindor and Slytherin from the start of that week, owing to the fact that the lead in the House Championship was at stake. As a result, the Gryffindor players in particular came under enormous strain in the corridors between classes. Slytherins of all ages did everything in their power to try and sabotage the Gryffindor team. Madam Rose spent every day curing Gryffindor players of boils, sprouting teeth, jelly-legs and other sorts of ailments.

Of course, Professor Fudge did not seem to notice any of this. Instead, he took points from Gryffindor every time someone complained about the Slytherin's behaviour. Professor Prewett was no help either; she was still in the Headmaster's bad books and did not want to have another confrontation with the Slytherin housemaster.

'The Pirates should do something about this,' William said at lunch on the Wednesday. 'We cannot let the Slytherins get away with hexing our team.'

Albus shook his head.

'No, I cannot do that,' Albus said. 'Professor Fudge has been following me around, making sure that I do not do anything wrong. He took ten points from Gryffindor this morning when he caught me holding my wand.'

'He what?' spluttered Mars. It seemed that Professor Fudge could find any reason to give Slytherin points or take points from Gryffindor.

'Very well, then let us do some pranks,' William said.

'If it is your wish to get expelled, then go ahead and do so,' Albus said coldly. 'I will not take part in any pranks, not for a while, as I said.'

William did not pursue the matter any further, but he, Mars and Alabastor were decidedly cool towards Albus for the rest of the day. That is, until after lessons that afternoon, when disaster struck the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

A throng of Gryffindors were accompanying their sixth year Seeker, Jonathan Glastonbury, back to the house from lessons. Albus and the rest of the Pirates happened to be with them. Albus was feeling a little low, because his friends had not been talking to him since lunch, so his head was down when the group came to a sudden halt. Albus crashed into the back of Victoria, who yelped.

'Watch where you walk, Albus,' Victoria snapped. Albus went red.

'Sorry, I … hey, why have we stopped?' he said. His question was answered moments later when he heard the familiar bulldog growl of a certain Slytherin housemaster.

'Glastonbury!' Professor Fudge said. 'You did not do an adequate job of your Defence against the Dark Arts homework. Please accompany me on my way to the dungeons so I can discuss a suitable punishment for you.'

Jonathan Glastonbury cast a wary look at the Slytherin housemaster, but had no choice to step out of the throng of Gryffindors. Some of his friends made as if to follow, but Professor Fudge was quick to speak.

'No, I only want Glastonbury,' Professor Fudge said, his heavy jowls contorted in a leer. 'The rest of you can head back to your house, before I take more points off Gryffindor.'

There were murmurs of dissent from the older Gryffindors, but they had no choice but to obey. As the group walked off down the corridor, throwing looks over their shoulders at the retreating figures of Professor Fudge and Jonathan, William forgot about his quarrel with Albus and started to talk to him again.

'Where do you suppose he is taking Glastonbury?' William asked.

'I do not think that is the question we should be asking,' Albus said, a worried look on his face. 'I think we should be asking; what is he going to do to Glastonbury?'

A tense and worried silence hung over Gryffindor Tower all afternoon. Jonathan had not returned from his punishment by the time the house went down to the Great Hall for dinner. There, they found a table of Slytherins throwing exalted smirks and looks of immense satisfaction towards the Gryffindors, who could hardly throw any insults back. Gryffindor had clearly been beaten on that score, but, as Albus wondered, just _what had happened_ to Jonathan to make the Slytherins look so pleased with themselves?

Even more ominous for Gryffindor was the absence of Professor Fudge from the staff dinner table. The school caretaker, Wilfred Umbridge, was also nowhere to be seen.

'He has been gone for too long,' Albus overheard Thomas saying to another one of the Gryffindor Quidditch team members. Thomas Jones was Gryffindor's captain, as well as being a prefect.

'What can we do about it?' the other player asked.

'I think I have no choice but to speak to Professor Prewett,' Thomas said. 'I will wait until after dinner, I think. She is our only hope of saving Jonathan from whatever Professor Fudge is doing to him.'

Albus tried to hang back after dinner to catch Thomas' conversation with Professor Prewett, but when the monocled teacher caught him trying to eavesdrop and gave him a look of death, he had no choice but to return back to the house.

The Gryffindor common room had never been fuller of bodies, and less full of noise, than it was that evening as they waited for Thomas Jones (and hopefully Jonathan Glastonbury with him) to return. A collective breath of hope went up when the Fat Lady finally swung open to let someone in. Everyone immediately let out a deflated sigh of despair when a pale-faced Thomas was the only person to enter the room. Nobody said a word, but every eye in Gryffindor was trained on Thomas, waiting for the news.

'It is bad,' Thomas said simply, shaking his blonde mop of hair, 'worse than bad, actually. Professor Fudge had Jonathan taken to the dungeons to Umbridge's office, where they … where they hung him upside down by his toes. When Professor Prewett got there, he was unconscious. Professor Fudge said that he had indisputable evidence from a reliable source that Jonathan was responsible for the dinners that attacked Slytherin a few weeks ago. That was his excuse for punishing him.'

'Well that is a load of tripe if ever I heard it!' snorted one of the Gryffindor beaters, a heavyset chap named Richard Malkin. 'Professor Fudge just made that up to hurt Glastonbury!'

'Of course he made it up,' Thomas said. 'Everyone knows that the mysterious Pirates did that spell, and Jonathan told me himself that he was not a Pirate, because I asked him.'

'So, what happened to him?' asked one of the girls in the Gryffindor team. 'Is he going to be alright?'

'I am afraid not,' Thomas said heavily. 'Professor Prewett and I took him up to the hospital wing, but Madam Rose says that he could be unconscious for a while. She did not want to use a reviving draught on him, because his brain needs time to recover. She says he needs a very special brain damage reversal potion which she is going to have to get from St Mungo's.'

Gryffindor was in a state of delayed shock after hearing Thomas' terrible news. There was complete silence for a few moments before cries of outrage starting springing up all over the place. Albus was both angry with Professor Fudge and Caretaker Umbridge for doing such a barbaric, horrible thing, and ashamed; he had been the one who had jinxed the Slytherin's dinners.

'It is not your fault,' Mars said, fixing Albus with his steady green ones. They seemed to calm him down somewhat. 'Professor Fudge would have used any reason to punish Glastonbury. It has nothing to do with the jinx you put on Slytherin's dinner.'

Albus felt slightly better, but he shared the feeling of intense dismay, horror and anger that now filled the Gryffindor common room like a haze of heat from the fireplace. Eventually the yelling and shouting died down, allowing Thomas to address them all once more.

'The problem I have right now is,' Thomas said glumly, 'that I have no Seeker for Saturday's game. We do not have a reserve and I do not think anyone will volunteer to play against Slytherin.'

'Not with those oafs Magnus Ogden and Samson Nott as Beaters, no,' someone yelled. 'They would have murdered Glastonbury anyway, had he played.'

There were murmurs of agreement from the other Gryffindors. Thomas was looking around with a pleading face, as if to say that he and the other five team members were putting theirbodies on the line against the vicious Slytherin mob.

'Is there _anyone_ who has the courage to play Seeker against Slytherin?' Thomas said desperately. 'They are not that bad.'

'Not that bad?' someone else cried out. 'They have not been beaten in a decade! Last year, we had to forfeit after ten minutes when four of our seven players had had their legs or arms broken by Bludgers!'

'I know, I remember that game,' Thomas said heavily. 'Well, if nobody wants to play Seeker I might as well go and tell Professor Prewett that we are forfeiting now. Save Madam Rose the trouble of fixing six broken legs on Saturday afternoon.'

Albus felt a powerful feeling rise up inside of him. This feeling was a mixture of the anger he felt at Slytherin, the frustration he felt at all his fellow Gryffindors who were too cowardly to play, and a keen desire to play Quidditch for his house. He pushed his way to the front of the room, grabbing Thomas' robes before he could leave through the portrait hole.

'I will play, Thomas,' Albus said.

'What?' Thomas said, spinning around. His face fell when he saw Albus standing in front of him, 'you? Oh no, Albus, I cannot let you play. Your parents will kill me if Hogwarts has to send you home in three pieces.'

'I want to play,' Albus said firmly. 'We have a chance to overtake Slytherin in the House Championship, and I will not let us forfeit the game. We are Gryffindors, are we not? We are supposed to be the bravest of all.'

'Big words from the first year,' Richard Malkin said. 'That is very brave of you, little one, but can you actually play Seeker? You need to have lightning reflexes and be a wizard on a broom.'

'Oh, Dumbledore can play alright,' Thomas said, putting a brotherly hand on Albus' shoulder. 'I play with the Dumbledore brothers in the holidays. He is extremely quick on a broom and he knows how to catch. In fact, seeing as Glastonbury is in sixth year, I was thinking of recruiting Dumbledore in two years time, when Glastonbury leaves Hogwarts. But not as a first year.'

'Sorry, little chap,' Richard said, giving Albus a friendly smile. 'It is mighty bold of you, but we are going to have to forfeit this game.'

That was when someone stepped forward to give an account of Albus that was entirely unexpected. Aberforth Dumbledore pushed forward and stepped out in front of all the other Gryffindors.

'Many of you think of me as a clown,' Aberforth said, and got a trickle of laughter from the crowd. 'That may be true, and I might just be the worst wizard in this room. But that left my little brother to get everything from my mother and father. He is the opposite of me, the best young wizard I have ever known. If there is anyone in this room who can help Gryffindor beat Slytherin at Quidditch on Saturday, it is my little brother.'

Albus noticed that his cheeks were burning. Aberforth gave him a wink and returned to sit with his third year friends, a strangely satisfied smile on his face.

'Very well,' Thomas said, looking down at Albus with a frown on his face. 'We will have to practice tomorrow and Friday nights to see if you fit in with the team. Just be warned; if you get killed on Saturday it will not be my fault.'

Albus could not have cared if Professor Cassandra Trelawney had swooped down from North Tower to promptly inform him that the Fates had revealed that he was definitely going to die on Saturday. He grinned at Thomas and at the other members of the Gryffindor team, all of whom were looking down at him with respect. Albus was going to play Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team!

The following day after the first year Charms lesson, Albus was made to stay behind by a very sombre looking Professor Prewett. To his surprise, Thomas arrived in the Charms classroom a moment later. Professor Prewett had obviously organised this meeting.

'Now, Dumbledore, from what I hear you have offered to play Seeker on Saturday,' Professor Prewett said, eyeing Albus through her monocle. 'That is very brave of you, and I award twenty points to Gryffindor for your courage. However, I simply cannot allow you to play.'

'But Professor …' Thomas and Albus began at the same time.

'No buts,' Professor Prewett said firmly. 'If Dumbledore plays, he will be the youngest and smallest Seeker in more than a century. I do not need to remind you, Jones, that Slytherin currently boast the biggest and best beaters that have probably ever played Quidditch at Hogwarts. Ogden and Nott will kill Dumbledore.'

'Professor,' Albus said softly, 'if I may?'

'Yes, what is it, Dumbledore?' Professor Prewett snapped.

'Are we allowed our wands on the Quidditch pitch?' Albus asked.

'No, it is forbidden by the rules,' Professor Prewett said.

'Well …' here Albus had to pause. The incurable boils hex he had put on the Pirates' binding magical contract had not worked, but he was not convinced that he should be telling Professor Prewett or Thomas Jones about how he had performed the prank of Noxious Black.

'Well what?' Professor Prewett cried.

'Remember how Noxious Black was caught duelling me when I was not holding a wand?' Albus asked. Professor Prewett nodded. 'Well, I actually was holding a wand. I transfigured an old robe to look like an arm, and used that as a fake arm while I kept my real arm and my wand hidden under my robe.'

Professor Prewett was looking at Albus with a mixture of pride and disapproval on her face. She looked like she half wanted to punish Albus, and her other half wanted to give Gryffindor a hundred points.

'So what Albus is suggesting,' Thomas said, catching on, 'is that he plays with one real arm holding the broom, one fake arm, and his other real arm secretly holding his wand, so that he can defend himself against anything the Slytherins throw at him.'

'And which arm will be catching the Golden Snitch?' Professor Prewett demanded.

'I can fly without holding my broom,' Albus said. 'When I get close enough to the Snitch, I will let go with my broom arm and catch the Snitch.'

There were a few minutes of silence while Professor Prewett's mind digested Albus' suggestion. Thomas was looking at Professor Prewett with a hungry expression on his face, like a dog waiting for its dinner.

'You do realise, boys,' Professor Prewett said in a high tone, 'that you are asking me to permit the Gryffindor team to cheat?'

'Well Slytherin cheats all the time!' Thomas insisted.

'That is not the point!' Professor Prewett yelled.

'I am not going to cheat,' Albus said, determined to get Professor Prewett to agree. 'I just need to protect myself from being killed. You would not want me to die because I was being noble, would you?'

He beseeched Professor Prewett with a sorry look on his face, his blue eyes gleaming up at her. She wilted under the pressure of Albus' sweet face and Thomas' look of desperation.

'Very well,' Professor Prewett said; still glaring at them both. 'One point from Gryffindor for planning to cheat on Saturday, but I will let you play, Dumbledore. If your arm trick works again, I may have to award Gryffindor at least fifty points for your skills at transfiguration. Now go.'

Thomas gave a whoop of joy, stunned Professor Prewett by grabbing her in a hug, and then dragged Albus out into the corridor. Professor Prewett called out to them, just as they were about to leave the Charms classroom.

'And boys,' she said urgently, 'please see that we win.'

That afternoon Albus joined the Gryffindor team at the Quidditch pitch for practice. The stadium was surrounded by stands full of seats, seats that would be filled with hundreds of Hogwarts students on Saturday. At either of end of the pitch stood three gigantic poles, each of which carried a large hoop. Albus had to crane his neck to see everything as he walked on to the pitch with the rest of the team, his Cleansweep Two clutched in his left hand. He waved up at his friends in the stands. The Pirates had come to watch their leader practice.

'Now, Dumbledore; let me introduce you formally to the rest of the team,' Thomas said. 'I am one of the three Chasers; the other two are Ingrid Ipswich and Ella Eades. Our two Beaters are Richard Malkin and Walter Pettigrew. Alfred Shaftesbury is our Keeper, and you are the youngest Seeker in more than a century.'

Albus grinned at his six new team mates.

'I am glad to be in the team,' Albus said, smiling at all of them.

'Well, yes,' Thomas said, eyeing his other team mates. 'First we need to see how you fit in with the Gryffindor team. Have you got your fake arm and your wand?'

'Yes,' Albus said. Judging by the fact that none of the Gryffindor players seemed surprised by this development, Albus worked out that Thomas must have told them all about the plan for Albus to protect himself.

'Good,' Thomas said. 'You need to practice with the fake arm on, because we need to see if this plan is going to work. Right, the rest of you, we have practiced our moves for weeks. Try to let Dumbledore fit in to the team and give him space to chase down the Golden Snitch.' He paused, letting out a huge breath of air. 'By Merlin, I hope this works.'

The seven Gryffindors launched into the air once Thomas had released the playing balls; the Quaffle that the Chasers used to score through the three hoops while the Keeper tried to block it; the Bludgers that the Beaters had to club away from Gryffindor players and towards the opposition; and the Golden Snitch that Albus had to catch to win the game for Gryffindor.

Once Albus was in the air, comforted by the sensation of wind rushing through his hair, he felt a lot better about this whole business. At first he struggled to keep his balance on his broom, because he could only use his left arm to hold on. His fake right arm stuck out of the sleeve of his robes. Victoria and Maggie had helped Albus to spellotape the fake arm to his robes so that he did not have to worry about it falling off. This left his real right arm free to clutch his wand.

'Send some Bludgers at Dumbledore!' he heard Thomas yell at Richard and Walter. The two Beaters started walloping Bludgers in Albus' direction. At first he tried to dodge them by flying out of the way, but this was difficult with only his left arm holding the broom. Albus swung around and faced the next Bludger head on. He cast a deflecting spell at the heavy ball that was whizzing towards him like a cannon ball. To his immense relief, the Bludger was deflected slightly to the side. It lifted his hair as it rushed past his head and went off in another direction.

'Excellent work, Dumbledore!' yelled Thomas. 'Now go find that Golden Snitch!'

Albus zoomed up until he was high above the Quidditch pitch. From here he could see the Gryffindor team going through its paces as it practiced all their moves. His sharp blue eyes scanned the stadium for the sight of a sparkle. The Golden Snitch was a small and shiny golden ball with fluttering wings. It was very fast, nearly impossible to see and even more difficult to catch.

Albus had to wait around for about ten minutes before he caught sight of the Golden Snitch. During that time Richard and Walter sent another three Bludgers in his direction, all of which were easily deflected by Albus' hidden wand. When Albus saw a spark of gold he fell into a swooping dive. Within moments he had streamed past the Gryffindor Chasers and was heading straight towards the ground. At the very last moment he lifted his broom to halt his descent, let go of his broom with his left hand, reached out and simply plucked the Golden Snitch out of the air.

The rest of the Gryffindor team sped down to surround Albus, their faces alight with approval. Thomas was particularly pleased. His grin seemed to be tearing his face in two. Albus saw the other Gryffindor first years running down from the stands towards him.

'That was terrific, Dumbledore,' Thomas said. Richard and Walter nodded, their faces not hiding that they were impressed.

'You were great, Albus!' William cried, hurrying up to pat Albus on the back. All of the Pirates had a word of congratulations for Albus. Thomas eventually had to break them apart.

'That was just once,' Thomas said. 'We have a whole afternoon of practice yet. Keep this up, though, Albus, and we'll be celebrating all night Saturday!'

Albus waved to his friends and kicked off into the air again. He felt heady with success, but his feet were on the ground enough to tell him that there would be a lot more pressure during the actual game on Saturday; mainly in the form of seven big, strong and ugly Slytherins flying around trying to do him in. So he put his head down and spent the rest of the afternoon deflecting Bludgers, chasing after the Snitch and imagining what it might be like to have Slytherins getting in the way.

Saturday dawned bright and clear, but it was terribly cold and Albus really did not want to get out of his feather down bed. Unfortunately Thomas had made an unusual trip up to the first year bedroom.

'Out of bed, Dumbledore,' Thomas' voice declared. 'We are going to breakfast and then we are going down to the pitch early. I want plenty of time in the changing sheds to get into the correct mindset for the game.'

Albus dragged his feet all the way through getting dressed and heading down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He was accompanied by all nine the other Pirates, who wanted to protect him from any attacks by Slytherins. Fortunately they made it safely to the Great Hall, where William, Mars and Victoria forced Albus to eat at least half of his bowl of porridge. Professor Prewett showed up to take Albus and the rest of the team down to the pitch. She lectured them all on the way down.

'Now I wish to make it perfectly clear,' Professor Prewett said in an unusually high pitched voice, 'that I am proud of you all. Winning is not the most important thing in the world, but if you could, perhaps, just sneak a win for Gryffindor, then I … I must say I would be quite pleased.'

'Do not worry, Professor,' Thomas said, patting her arm gently. 'We will beat the Slytherins if it is the last thing we do.'

'Thomas Jones, five points from Gryffindor for saying such a terrible thing,' Professor Prewett snapped. It was a mark of how nervous everyone was that nobody seemed shocked by this punishment. None of the Gryffindors wanted this match against Slytherin to be the last thing they ever did.

As eleven o'clock approached, Albus sat inside the changing rooms listening to the sound of hundreds of feet and chattering voices as the stadium filled with the students of Hogwarts. The other six Gryffindor players were also sitting on different seats in the changing room, their faces pale. Nobody said a word, not even Thomas. Every few minutes Thomas would get up and pace the length of the changing room, but he never said anything. Finally the unbearable tension was relieved by the whistle of the referee, Madam Cross. Albus' shaking left hand picked up his broom and he followed his team mates out on to the paddock. Hundreds of voices yelled and cheered from the surrounding stands. Albus could see the Gryffindors waving maroon and gold banners. He swallowed hard, clutched on to his wand with his hidden right hand, and swung himself on to his broom. This was it.

The game was about to begin…

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Authors Note – Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing this story. Keep them coming. You are quite welcome to make suggestions about how I could write better, but please try not to pre-empt the plot! dd9736, as you can see, I DID make Albus the youngest in more than a century. You just needed to have a little patience! Thanks to reviews from The AllKnowing Tonks, SammyStar, harryfm, mekareQ and dd9736. I appreciate all the feedback. I hope you don't mind the suspenseful end to this chapter. I want to keep you all hanging until my next update. 


	7. Gryffindor versus Slytherin

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"The power within one can exceed the power of many if the will is strong"

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Chapter 6 – Gryffindor versus Slytherin

Albus kicked off from the ground and felt the familiar sensation of lightness as his broom carried him up into the air. The Cleansweep Two was a very smooth flying broom, much easier for navigating with than the original 1843 model. Even so, Albus had to concentrate on keeping a tight grip with his left hand. His right hand was, of course, hidden under the sleeve of his robes and holding on to his wand. The fake arm sticking out of his sleeve was not at all useful for anything. Albus flew up until he was high above the Quidditch stadium, where he was well out of the way of most of the action. Slytherin's Seeker, a greasy haired third year girl, was floating about somewhere to his left.

Albus tried to look for the Golden Snitch, but found that he could hardly keep his eyes off the game unfolding underneath him. The Slytherins were really as good as the Gryffindors had been saying before the match. Their Beaters, Maurice Ogden and Samson Nott, were huge boys with fists almost as big as the bats they were using to smack Bludgers in the direction of Albus' Gryffindor team mates. Within the first minute of the game Albus saw a Bludger collide sickeningly with the leg of one of the Gryffindor Chasers, who immediately started spiralling to the ground. Three quarters of the school gave a cry of despair; the Slytherins cheered and catcalled in delight.

'What a terrible blow!' yelled the magnified voice of the commentator for the match. 'Gryffindor's Chaser, Ingrid Ipswich, looks to have sustained a nasty blow to the leg. Slytherin have taken one down already!'

Two minutes later the same thing happened, except that this time Ogden and Nott managed to send two Bludgers into a Gryffindor Beater from opposite sides. The School gave a collective 'Ah!' as the hapless Beater went spinning to the ground.

'Goodness me,' the commentator cried. 'Walter Pettigrew looks to have had both arms broken by that savage Slytherin attack. Gryffindor are down to five players already!'

Not that Slytherin were winning solely on account of their monstrous Beaters. All seven the Slytherin players used dirty mid-air tactics to upset the Gryffindors. This included the Slytherin Seeker. She started flying in circles around Albus, taunting him.

'Black tells me you are a favourite with the teachers,' she sneered. 'What do you do, lick their feet for them? I bet that is how you wormed your way into the Gryffindor team … you had to lick that old hag Spewett's feet. What did that taste like?'

'Better than anyone from Slytherin,' Albus retorted, biting on his tongue when he realised what a poor comeback that had been. The Slytherin Seeker broke into gales of cackling laughter. She sounded like a hag herself.

'Gryffindor must have been really desperate to pick an ickle first year like you,' she said mockingly. 'Or maybe everyone else was hanging from their toes in the…'

Just then a Bludger came hurtling past, nearly knocking the Slytherin Seeker off her broom. She spiralled away angrily. Richard Malkin flew up to retrieve the Bludger, his face bright red with exertion.

'Hurry up and catch the Golden Snitch!' Richard panted. 'I am doing two jobs out here!'

Richard flew off, walloping the Bludger after the Slytherin Seeker, who tailed off and sped away to the other end of the Quidditch pitch. Albus realised that with Walter gone, Richard had to compete against Ogden and Nott by himself. He tried to catch hold of what the commentator was saying in order to see how the two Gryffindor Chasers still flying were coping against the three Slytherin Chasers.

'And Slytherin leads by a hundred and ten points to twenty,' the commentator cried. 'Ooh, what a shocking tactic by the Slytherin Chasers; ganging up on Eades like that. She looks a little dizzy after all three of them flew right into her. Madam Cross awards Gryffindor a penalty … and … it is blocked by Regan Bletchley! Excellent save by the Slytherin Keeper. The score remains one hundred and ten to twenty as the Slytherin Chasers are in possession of the Quaffle …'

Albus started looking around frantically, desperate to spot the Golden Snitch and end his team's misery. He thought he saw a gleam of gold at the foot of one of the stands when … BLAM!

Albus saw stars and a vortex of light spinning around inside his head. His head felt like it had cracked open. He very nearly let go of his wand with his right hand, and worse, his broom with his left hand. Somehow he managed to cling to his broom, but he felt the wind tearing at his robes. He knew that he had been hit by a Bludger, but he had forgotten exactly where he was at the moment. There was a lot of noise in his ears. He started to hear fragments of sentences, as if someone was calling him from far away.

'Look at this … Dumbledore … the ground … not stopping … could be tragedy …'

Albus blinked three times and his vision came back to him. For a second it was blurry, before he realised that he was just about to hit the ground. He pulled up hard with his left arm, miraculously stopping himself from completing what surely would have been a deadly nosedive into the Quidditch pitch. The roars from the crowd told him that at least some people were happy that he had not just died.

'What a brilliant move by Dumbledore,' the commentator was screaming, 'they have not named that move yet … maybe they will call it the Dumbledore Feint or something. And Slytherin have the Quaffle again and are headed towards the Gryffindor posts …'

Albus quickly regathered his senses and start flying woozily up to float above the stadium again. Thomas Jones made a quick dash up to see if he was alright.

'Still alive, Dumbledore?' he asked, his face deathly pale. 'Good. Gryffindor is barely alive though. The score is one hundred and fifty to forty now. We cannot keep this up much longer. Please, by Merlin's Beard, get that Golden Snitch before it is too late!'

Albus started searching even harder for the Snitch, but his eyes were watering and his head was still ringing from where the Bludger had hit him in the head. How had he missed it, he wondered? What was the point of carrying around this stupid fake arm and his wand if he did not protect himself? He peered through the blinding sunlight in search of the Slytherin Seeker. When he saw that she was also floating around aimlessly, he relaxed just a little. At least she had not spotted it, either.

'Dumbledore, look out!' yelled Thomas.

Albus spun around in mid-air and saw both Slytherin Beaters hurtling towards him, brandishing their bats and in possession of the two Bludgers, both of which were about the size of Albus's head.

'Look at this, the Slytherin Beaters are launching a dual attack on the poor Gryffindor Seeker,' the commentator yelled. 'He is only a first year, please do not kill him!'

Albus steadied himself for the oncoming onslaught. He muttered 'Impedimenta' under his breath twice, deflecting both Bludgers away from his head. Despite the looks of surprise on their faces, Ogden and Nott kept on coming. Albus knew by instinct that those bats were going to connect with his face if he did not get out of the way.

Albus waited until the very last possible minute and dropped into a spectacular dive. He felt a rush of wind as both Nott and Ogden's bats swiped the air where he had been a second before.

'Blatant cheating by the Slytherin Beaters!' roared the commentator. 'Did everyone see that? They were trying to murder the Gryffindor Seeker!'

All this was lost on Albus. His eyes were firmly fixed on Richard. The Gryffindor Beater was zooming towards the Slytherin Seeker with his bat stretched out and ready to collide with a Bludger. Moments after Richard had walloped the Bludger towards the Slytherin Seeker, a resounding CRACK echoed across the stadium.

'SLYTHERIN HAVE LOST THEIR SEEKER!' screamed the commentator. 'RICHARD MALKIN, THE GRYFFINDOR BEATER, HAS BROKEN HER LEG WITH THE BLUDGER! IS THIS A TURNING POINT OR …'

As the Slytherin Seeker spiralled down to the ground in the same way that the Gryffindors Ingrid and Walter had done, the crowd started to laugh at the loss of commentary. It appeared that the commentator had lost his voice! The silence did not last for long.

'Good afternoon everyone, I am Ron Lovegood, your new commentator,' boomed a newly magnified voice. 'Watch the Slytherin Beaters go; they are furious with Richard Malkin for taking out their Seeker. They want his head on a plate; you can almost see it in their eyes from here…'

Albus silently expressed a hope that Richard would survive the wrath of the Slytherin Beaters, but he somehow did not hold out much hope. He needed to find that Golden Snitch fast, before Richard was injured and the two Slytherin Beaters went after him again. But the Snitch was nowhere to be found. The bright October sunlight and the residual effects of Albus' encounter with a Bludger made it difficult to see properly.

For the second time in Albus' life, _everything_ seemed to be made of gold. This was not like his visit to Heliopolis, the Egyptian city of the Sun God Ra. There everything had been made of gold. Now, Albus' brain just seemed to think everything was gold. A blade of grass, catching the light of the afternoon sun, looked like the Golden Snitch. The flash of Professor's Prewett's monocle looked like the Golden Snitch. Albus half-heartedly imagined himself snatching her monocle and seeing the expression on her face when he did so.

Suddenly the air vibrated with a terrific intake of air by the entire school, followed by a stunned silence. Even Ron Lovegood took a moment to regain his composure and start commentating again.

'That was the most horrible collision I have ever seen!' yelled Ron shakily. 'Gryffindor's Beater Richard Malkin and the two Slytherin Beaters, Magnus Ogden and Samson Nott; have collided with each other and with one of the Quidditch hoops! By the oaths I hope they are alright!'

Albus looked down to see three limp forms falling to the ground, where they collapsed in a heap at the bottom of one of the giant poles which carried the scoring hoops at the Gryffindor end. Robed figures were running across the Quidditch pitch to see if the three Beaters were alright. Madam Cross had blown her whistle to pause the game. Albus flew down to join the rest of the Gryffindor team, or what was left of them.

'Hang on a minute, I just need to ask Madam Cross if the game is going to continue,' Thomas said urgently, before zipping off on his broom to ask the referee. He returned a moment later, a look of intense relief on his face. 'She says that we are, but if one more person gets injured, from either team, the match will be called off with no result. Now listen closely. Slytherin still have their Keeper and all three Chasers. We have got two Chasers in Ella and me, a Keeper in Alfred, and a Seeker in Albus. Slytherin are winning by two hundred and twenty to ninety.'

Here Thomas turned to Albus, his eyes so wide that Albus thought they were about to fall out.

'Albus, you are safe, now that the Slytherin Beaters are out cold,' he said in a low whisper. 'Sneak your wand back into your pocket, get rid of that fake arm and start flying with both hands on the broom. You have to get the Golden Snitch before they put another two or three goals on us. If they do, wait until we get a goal back. You MUST NOT catch the Snitch unless we are losing by one hundred and forty or less.'

'What if I can get us the draw?' Albus asked.

'No,' Thomas said, grabbing Albus' right shoulder so hard that his fake arm actually did fall off. Thinking quickly, Albus transfigured the arm back into a torn sleeve, slipped his wand into the pockets of his robes, and revealed his real right hand. Thomas fixed Albus with a determined stare. 'Albus, Slytherin have played the dirtiest game I have ever been in. We are going to bring them down. Nothing but a win, do you hear me?'

'Nothing but a win,' Albus agreed, fixing Thomas with his own hard stare.

Madam Cross gave another sharp whistle and the game was on again. Albus soared into the air, his eyes searching for the Golden Snitch. This time he felt more relaxed. Both hands were firmly clasped on his broom and he felt comfortable at last. Flying with one hand on the broom and his head over his shoulder worrying about Slytherin Beaters was not an easy task.

'Despite having one less Chaser, the Gryffindors are giving a good account of themselves,' Ron commentated over the loudspeaker. 'They have pulled back three goals and the score is now two hundred and twenty to one hundred at twenty to Slytherin. But, what is this …?'

Albus looked up in time to see two Slytherin Chasers flying in large, swooping arcs high above the stadium from opposite ends of the pitch. They straightened and Albus began to wonder if they were headed directly towards each other.

'ALBUS!' screamed Thomas, like he had never screamed before. Albus immediately remembered what Madam Cross had said to Thomas: _if one more person gets injured, from either team, the match will be called off with no result._

This was what Slytherin wanted, Albus realised in a heartbeat. They could not win without a Seeker to catch the Snitch, unless Albus was dumb enough to catch it when Slytherin were one hundred and sixty points up. So the two Slytherin Chasers were going to collide with each other and end the match!

By some miracle, Albus looked down and saw something sparkly flittering about near the ground. He forgot about everything else; the Slytherin Chasers about to collide, the roars of the crowd, Thomas' hoarse screaming, the yells from the commentator and the pain in his head; and dropped into a stomach wrenching dive.

The ground was coming closer and closer. The wind tore at Albus' face, dragging his hairs back so that they pulled on his scalp. He reached out with his right arm at nearly the last minute.

In one heart stopping moment, Albus' right hand closed on the Golden Snitch, and his left hand instinctively pulled up on his broom to stop him from colliding with the ground.

Albus felt like an explosion had gone off in the Quidditch stadium.

He found himself crushed between three bodies. For a few seconds he thought he was going to suffocate before Ella and Alfred let go of him and helped lift him on top of Thomas' shoulders. The Quidditch pitch was covered from end to end by Hogwarts students, wearing scarves of maroon and gold or yellow and black or blue and grey. There was not a trace of silver or green. Albus could only catch fragments of what different people were saying.

'… never seen better in my life,' Ron Lovegood was screaming, still using the microphone, '… they will be calling that the Dumbledore Feint from now on, I am sure of it …'

'… transfiguration and courage of the highest quality,' Professor Prewett was saying. She blew her nose into a hankie with a loud honk. 'Fifty points to Gryffindor; no, make it a hundred.' With an exclamation of joy she burst into tears on the shoulders of one of the Gryffindor seventh years.

'I cannot believe it, we beat them!' Thomas yelled at Ella and Alfred. Albus wondered what had happened to Ingrid, Richard and Walter, their other team mates.

'Little brother, you are the greatest!' Aberforth called out from the middle of a huge crowd of Gryffindors. All of them were wearing looks of admiration up at Albus. He waved down at the Pirates, who were beaming at him. Victoria seemed to have got something caught in both of her eyes and was furiously trying to rub it out with her hands.

'SLYTHERIN LOST, SLYTHERIN LOST!' chanted the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws. The Gryffindors added their piece. 'GRYFFINDOR WON, GRYFFINDOR WON!' Soon the three jubilant houses were marching back to the school, Albus at the front on Thomas' shoulders, as the chant continued: 'SLYTHERIN LOST, GRYFFINDOR WON! SLYTHERIN LOST, GRYFFINDOR WON!'

It was the greatest day at Hogwarts in ten long years under Headmaster Black.

That evening the butterbeer flowed deep into the night in Gryffindor Tower. Walter, Richard and Ella were released from the hospital wing by a reluctant Madam Rose so that they could take part in the celebrations. All three wanted to know what had happened after they had been injured, so Albus first had to take part in ten retellings by Thomas Jones, who made Albus pretend to snatch the Golden Snitch out of the air whenever he got to that part of the story.

Everyone in Gryffindor wanted a piece of Albus. He was pulled into at least fifteen different hugs by older girls and all the boys wanted to do was shower him with sweets and pat him on the back. Eventually he escaped the clutches of a particularly protective fifth year girl and hurried back to the corner where the Pirates were sitting.

'Merlin, help me,' Albus said, squashing down on the couch between Alabastor and Mars. 'They are all off their nut!'

'You just won the game for us, Albus,' William said, throwing another handful of Fizzing Whizzbees into Albus' lap. 'We are winning the House Championship now thanks to you.'

'And it is the first time Slytherin has been beaten …' Mars began, but Albus interrupted.

'In ten years, I know, I know,' Albus said. 'I just did what had to be done. It was really Richard who won the game for us. He was the one who took out Ogden and Nott. They would have killed me if he had not done so.'

'Albus, you were absolutely terrific,' Victoria said, leaning forward to pat him on the knee. Albus felt his cheeks going red.

As if arriving on cue, to spare Albus any further embarrassment, Thomas came bustling up to the Gryffindor first years with a tray loaded with ten steaming jugs.

'Butterbeers for the hero of the day and his friends,' Thomas proclaimed loudly. William's eyes went wider than if he had just received a thousand galleons for his birthday. The other first years looked just as shocked. Butterbeer was a drink too heady for first years to handle, and even fourth and fifth years were technically forbidden to drink it.

'What do you think you are doing, Jones?' Professor Prewett yelled. Their housemistress had just walked into the common room. Thomas had the look of someone who had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar; or, perhaps, someone who had just been caught trying to give an illicit drink like butterbeer to a bunch of first years.

'I … just thought Dumbledore deserved a drink,' Thomas said, giving Professor Prewett a weak smile.

'Jones, twenty points to Gryffindor for delivering butterbeers to Dumbledore and his friends,' Professor Prewett said sharply.

'Excuse me, Professor, but did my ears just deceive me?' Thomas said. 'Did you just say twenty points _to_ Gryffindor?'

'Yes, I did,' Professor Prewett snapped. 'Now hurry up and give them their drinks so you can go and fetch me a glass of the Ogden's Old Firewhisky that I see Aberforth Dumbledore has acquired over there. If you do it quickly, I will award Gryffindor another twenty points for your expedience.'

Thomas grinned as he lowered the tray for the ten first years to take a jug of butterbeer each. He hurried off to where Albus' older brother was trying to drink three glasses of Firewhisky at the same time through his mouth and his two nostrils. Aberforth promptly snorted and spat the fiery liquid out again, coughing and spluttering to the side splitting amusement of his friends. Albus had to smile. His brother might not be great with a wand, but he knew how to entertain a crowd.

'Dumbledore,' Professor Prewett said. The forbidding housemistress towered over the first years, glaring down at him through her monocle. 'Quite the worst game of Quidditch I have ever watched. If I had my way … IF I had my way, those rotten, cheating Slytherins would never take the pitch again. You, on the other hand, were quite brilliant. But if I ever see you let a Bludger hit you in the head like that again, then I will personally make sure that you never play Quidditch again! I thought you had been killed!'

Then Professor Prewett did something that was quite unexpected. She leaned over and planted a kiss on Albus' forehead, before marching over to Thomas with an overly loud voice. 'Now where is my glass of Ogden's Old Firewhisky, boy?'

Albus buried his face under the collar of his robes, his face burning with embarrassment. Mars, Alabastor and William all turned and tickled him, mocking him about his new love affair with the Gryffindor housemistress. Eventually he managed to escape their taunting, running over to where Aberforth was setting fire to the fumes of Ogden's Old Firewhisky coming out of his rear end with his wand.

'Let me have a drink of that stuff!' Albus demanded. Aberforth gave him a mischievous grin as he handed over the bottle. Three gulps later and Albus felt a whole lot better … except he did not remember another thing about that night and woke up the next morning lying on a rug in front of the Gryffindor fireplace, surrounded by at least twenty other Gryffindors who had been too drunk on butterbeer and Ogden's Old Firewhisky to make it back up to their dormitories. It had been a night to remember!

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks to Dumbledor and dd9736, the only ones to review my last chapter. I suppose I am updating extremely regularly; but keep the feedback coming because I read my new reviews before I start each new chapter and I like to know what people thought of the last one. I have a very busy week ahead and I may not be able to update as often as I have been. But I have hopefully got you all into the story and you can expect at least two to three new chapters a week. So keep on reading! 


	8. Defence against the Dark Pumpkins

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"Imagination is mischief's best friend"

* * *

Chapter 7 – Defence against the Dark Pumpkins

The weeks following Gryffindor's victory over Slytherin in Quidditch were brilliant for anyone at Hogwarts who did not belong to Slytherin. Ravenclaw thrashed Hufflepuff in their first match and leapfrogged Slytherin into second place on the House Championship table. The Hufflepuffs did not seem to mind, being the cheerful folk that they always were. Professors Black and Fudge, however, were anything but cheerful. The Defence against the Dark Arts teacher was in a horrible mood. He stormed around the castle looking more like a bullfrog than a bulldog, and was liable to take points off anyone who dared look at him. For once, this included Slytherins, so Professor Fudge's house did not regain the lead by virtue of their normally generous housemaster.

Unfortunately Albus copped a lot of flak from Professor Fudge for Slytherin's defeat and ignominious slide to third on the house table. Jonathan Glastonbury had been restored to full health by the brain damage reversal potion that Madam Rose had got from St Mungo's, and had promptly returned to the Gryffindor team. Thomas Jones had promised Albus that he would be the first pick for Seeker in two years time when Glastonbury left Hogwarts. Despite Albus' return to being an ordinary, non-Quidditch playing student, Professor Fudge could not help but hurl Quidditch related comments at him during Defence against the Dark Arts lessons.

'Werewolves are most dangerous creatures,' Professor Fudge was droning away one afternoon, 'and will kill anything that approaches them without hesitation. They are extremely fast, and even a Dumbledore Feint will not spare you a painful death; Albus-Dumbledore-twenty-points-from-Gryffindor-for-writing-notes-to-Potter-during-class-and-Potter-twenty-points-from-Gryffindor-for-reading-them!'

Albus and William glared at Professor Fudge from the back of the class. In their boredom they had been playing a game of wizard hangman on their scrolls.

'It would seem that some in this class consider themselves above learning to defend themselves against the Dark Arts,' Professor Fudge said, not taking his ugly eyes off Albus. Noxious, Isabella and Frederick were the Slytherins to snigger the loudest. Noxious had gotten over his humiliation in front of the whole school and was back to being his usual, arrogant self. Professor Fudge was not finished harassing Albus. When he started on Albus, he often got on a roll and would spend the remainder of the lesson insulting him and inducing fresh gales of laughter from his Slytherins.

'Maybe some think that defeating a Dark Wizard is as easy as catching a ball out of the sky, or avoiding a couple of Bludgers,' Professor Fudge said, a menacing twinkle in his eye. 'Or perhaps they just think that they are too good to learn from a Slytherin. What would a Slytherin know about the Dark Arts?'

This last comment had the Slytherin first years doubled over, crying with mirth. It was not as though Professor Fudge's words had been particularly funny. It had been the tone of his voice. He had spoken in a simpering fashion, as though talking to an infant or a puppy. Albus' blue eyes gleamed with dislike for this horrid man, but he refused to react.

Suddenly Professor Fudge had moved up the aisle and was standing in front of Albus' desk. He put his fat hands on Albus' desk and leaned in so that Albus had to breathe in the Professor's stale breath.

'I am ordering you, Dumbledore, to tell me how you deflected those Bludgers during the Quidditch match,' Professor Fudge said in a low tone.

'I did not deflect any Bludgers,' Albus said calmly, without hesitation. 'Did you not see that Bludger smack me in the head? I nearly fell to the ground because of it.'

'That one hit you because you lost concentration,' Professor Fudge hissed. Albus could see the Slytherins leaning forward, out of the corner of his eyes. They were trying to hear everything that was being said. 'Tell me about the other Bludgers.'

'Ogden and Nott missed,' Albus said swiftly. He could play this game as well as Professor Fudge, and was not going to back down or give in. 'They are obviously not as good as you think they are.'

The Slytherin first years hooted at this comment. Professor Fudge snorted.

'You are pathetically arrogant,' Professor Fudge snapped, 'and a poor liar. Report to your housemistress at once, and tell her that if she does not give you a suitable punishment then I will see that you are expelled.'

Albus picked up his schoolbooks, his bag and his parchment, and marched out of the classroom with his head held high. Once he was in the corridor he felt a sudden rush of fear stirring his guts. That was quite a threat, and Professor Prewett would probably have to give him a detention at the very least. He wondered why Professor Fudge had not simply given him a detention straight away, or taken another fifty points off Gryffindor.

Albus made his way slowly to Professor Prewett's study adjacent to the Charms classroom. He peered in through the crack in the classroom door and saw that she was teaching what looked like fifth years. Cushions were flying across the classroom into rubbish bins; or at least, that was their intended destination. Most were flying into Professor Prewett's bookcase and some had gone on mysterious journeys out the window. Albus did not want to have to admit that he had been sent to his housemistress in front of a whole lot of fifth years, so he waited out the rest of the lesson, enjoying watching the flight of the cushions.

Fifteen minutes later, the fifth years piled into the corridor and Albus slipped into the Charms classroom in time to catch the tail of Professor Prewett's robes as she entered her study through a side door. He approached nervously, giving a very soft rap on the handle once he had taken a few deep breaths.

'Enter!' Professor Prewett said. Albus opened the door and shuffled into the Gryffindor housemistress' tiny office. It was a musky, cluttered room with shelves grimacing under the strain of hundreds of books. More piles of books decorated the floor and another two dozen, in various states of open-ness (being: half-open, open face up, open face down and closed), lay on her desk.

'What is it, Dumbledore?' she asked, smiling in the way that made her look Albus' mother's age instead of his grandmother's.

'I … I have been sent to see you by Professor Fudge,' Albus said, deciding that it was better to get this over with by speaking very fast. 'I have been told to tell you that if you do not give me a suitable punishment then Professor Fudge will see that I am expelled.'

To Albus' surprise, Professor Prewett rolled her eyes and dumped her shaking head in her hands on her desk. She stayed in this position for several moments. Albus began to wonder if she was alright. He stepped closer and touched her gently on the shoulder.

'Professor Prewett? Professor Prewett?' he said. 'Are you unwell?'

Professor Prewett's head popped up in a flash. She blinked several times, as if unsure where she was and wondering what Dumbledore was doing in her office.

'No, I am quite well, thank you,' Professor Prewett said. Albus was quite mystified by her strange behaviour.

'Are you … are you going to punish me, then?' Albus said tentatively, 'because I do not wish to be expelled.'

'Oh you will not be expelled,' Professor Prewett snapped, sounding terribly exasperated. 'I thought Fudge would come up with something like this. He has been blazing mad at me since I removed five hundred points from that filth he calls his house, when anyone in their right mind would have agreed with me for doing so.'

Professor Prewett started sifting through the papers on her desk, clicking her tongue in irritation and muttering to herself. Albus was quite lost. He wondered if maybe Professor Prewett had not been having a few too many glasses of Ogden's Old Firewhisky that morning.

Suddenly Professor Prewett had all eyes on Albus again. Her whole attitude towards him had changed. She had readjusted her monocle and was peering down at him, a very severe, elderly look on her face.

'So what exactly did you do to warrant being sent here, Dumbledore?' she growled.

'Well, I did not do anything, to be honest,' Albus said fervently. 'He just started going on about that game again and making jokes about me catching the Golden Snitch. Next thing I know is, he is telling me to admit that I used magic to deflect the Bludgers.'

'Oh come on, Dumbledore,' Professor Prewett said waspishly. 'Admit it; you must have been doing something to get Professor Fudge started.'

Albus felt his insides sinking. He felt as though Professor Prewett was sucking the truth out of him, whether he wanted to say it or not.

'William and I were playing wizard hangman on our parchment,' Albus said heavily.

'Very well, Dumbledore,' Professor Prewett said, in the tone of someone who was about to pass judgement on a criminal, 'a term of detentions for you, to be served under my supervision, immediately following dinner on every night of the week.'

Albus could have been told that the Sorting Hat had just relocated him to Slytherin House and he would have felt better than he did at that very moment.

'But … but … Professor,' Albus said desperately. 'Maybe that deserves ten points off Gryffindor or something, but not a term full of detentions!'

'Do not question me, Dumbledore, or I will be writing to your parents as well,' Professor Prewett snarled. 'Now get out of my office. I will see you in my classroom at the end of dinner tonight.'

Albus staggered from Professor Prewett's office, his legs feeling weaker than when the Bludger had slammed into his head. He was barely ten strides away from her door when her piercing voice echoed down the corridor after him.

'And while I think of it, Dumbledore, bring the rest of the Gryffindor first years.'

Albus wanted to climb the North Tower and devote his life to following the teachings of Professor Cassandra Trelawney. Even that would be better than this! He immediately began to wonder if Professor Prewett knew about the Pirates! Why else would she want all ten the Gryffindor first years in detention? And what sort of ghoul or beast was possessing Professor Prewett today? Was she a werewolf? Was Professor Fudge trying to hint at something? _"Today I am going to teach you about werewolves. Dumbledore, go and see Prewett. She is in a really foul mood today." _He imagined hearing Professor Fudge's voice, and then tried to remember back to his last Astrology lesson. He could not remember whether Professor Beta Sinistra had said that the full moon was this week or not.

That was when it hit him; a realisation worse than the possibility of his housemistress being a vicious werewolf: he had to tell his nine fellow Pirates that they all had detention with him in the Charms classroom after dinner. What in Merlin's name would they all think of him when he pranced up to the Gryffindor dinner table and announced, 'just to let you know, chaps, we all have detention with Professor Prewett after dinner'? They would all think that he had revealed the truth about the Pirates to her and got them all into trouble! He could barely imagine the looks on the faces of William, Mars, Alabastor, and worst of all; Victoria, when he broke the bad news.

To make matters worse, the Pirates were having a right old time at dinner making plans for the evening.

'I have finished my Potions homework already,' William was saying, winking at Mars, 'thanks to Albus here. He always "leaves" his homework lying around. Don't you, Albus?'

Albus simply nodded and grunted, pretending to be busy with a spoonful of cabbage soup.

'So with all our homework out of the way, what are we going to do tonight?' Alabastor wondered.

'We were thinking of trying to put up tinsel around the Gryffindor common room,' Elizabeth said eagerly.

'What?' William spluttered. 'It is not even the end of October yet! You are forgetting Halloween!'

'Oh yes!' Mars exclaimed, clapping his hands together and trying to knock the whole Gryffindor table over as he tried to leap to his feet. The Gryffindor table was about a hundred times his weight, however, and all Mars achieved was two large bruises to his knees. While Mars yelped in pain, Alabastor got excited.

'The Pirates should do something for Halloween!' Alabastor cried. 'It is our first Halloween at Hogwarts, of course. Albus, what do you think? Reckon you can whip up an attack of the pumpkins on the Slytherins this Halloween?'

Halloween was that Friday. Albus had clean forgotten about it. He sat there, staring into his plate of rhubarb pie, feeling about as excited as if he had just been sentenced to seventy seven days in the company of Noxious Black.

'Is there something wrong with you, Albus?' Victoria said. 'William, I think there is something wrong with Albus.'

Much as Albus hated the thought of telling his friends about their detention, there was something about people talking about him as if he was not there that irritated him. He popped out of his reverie and gave the Pirates one of his long, hard, ice blue stares.

'I would love to plan our Halloween pranks with all of you,' Albus said, steeling himself for what he knew he had to say next, 'but unfortunately I, and all of you, have an appointment with Professor Prewett after dinner.'

'Ooh, Albus and Athene, sitting in a tree,' William started to sing.

'Potter, you idiot!' cried Emily, whacking him on the head, 'Albus just said all of us have the appointment, too!'

William quickly ran his hand through his hair, even though it could hardly be made messier by such an action.

'Is that true?' Mars said, frowning. 'Do we all have to see Professor Prewett after dinner?'

'Yes,' Albus said heavily.

'What for?' asked Annabel. 'We are not in trouble, are we?'

'No, we are not,' Albus lied, and felt immediately terrible for doing so. He looked away from his friends so that they would not notice his cheeks burning. To his intense dismay his eyes caught sight of Professor Fudge up at the staff table. The Slytherin housemaster gave him a horrendous grin, his bulldog cheeks lifting off his chest for a change. Albus wanted to sink in the floor. Professor Prewett had clearly made sure Professor Fudge knew that Albus was getting sufficient punishment. Albus felt like all the victories of the past two months: the Pirates, his defeat of Noxious and the Quidditch had all come to nothing. Professor Fudge had won.

At the end of dinner, Albus reluctantly followed the other Gryffindor first years up to the Charms classroom. The rest of them were all chipper, chatting gaily about the upcoming Halloween feast and what triumph of piracy the Pirates might enact on the Slytherins. Albus just wanted to disappear. He thought of Fawkes. Maybe if he grabbed the phoenix's tail before it disappeared, then he would disappear with it. Pity Fawkes was not around at that present moment for Albus to test the theory.

'Come on in, hurry up,' Professor Prewett said from behind them. She shooed them all out of the corridor and into her classroom. 'Sit down; we do not have time to mess about.'

Albus stared at the floor, feeling mildly sick. He wondered if he would survive if he asked to be excused to the hospital wing.

'Dumbledore, what in heaven's name are you doing sitting all the way at the back of the class?' she cried. 'Get to the front with the others.'

Albus slouched as he planted himself in a seat next to Victoria. She was giving him a very strange look, but right at that moment he could not have cared what she thought of him. In a few moments they would all know the truth and then they would all hate him.

'Now I suppose Dumbledore has told you all about this detention,' Professor Prewett began. Cries of outrage sounded from the other Gryffindor first years.

'Detention?' yelled William. 'He … you never told us this was a detention, Albus?'

'So that is why you looked sick,' Victoria spat. 'You'd gotten us all into trouble!'

'WILL YOU HARE-BRAINS SHUT UP?' screamed Professor Prewett, banging her hands on her desk. 'For goodness sake Gryffindors! Dumbledore, are you really that thick, that you thought I was giving you a term's worth of detentions?'

Albus looked up at Professor Prewett, whose monocled eye was burrowing into his head. He was confused and feeling hopelessly off-balance by this whole business. When Professor Prewett realised that Albus was lost, she gave another exasperated sigh.

'Dumbledore, you halfwit!' snapped Professor Prewett. 'Professor Fudge wanted me to punish you, so I did. But in order for him to think that I actually _was_ punishing you, you needed to look upset. So I did not tell you that this is not a real punishment!'

It took Albus a whole minute to register this information and to realise how stupid he had been to spend the entire afternoon feeling miserable about life.

'So I do not have a term of detention with you?' Albus asked.

'Oh yes you do,' Professor Prewett said swiftly. 'All ten of you do.'

A fresh round of complaints sprung up around the room, particularly from the girls, who liked to keep their noses clean and could not believe that they were being punished for no reason.

'OH FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!' raged Professor Prewett. 'This is not a punishment, how clear do I have to be? This is for your own good!'

'I beg your pardon, Professor,' William said, with barely disguised hostility. 'But how is spending a whole term in detention with you for our own good?'

'For one thing, if Professor Fudge tries to punish you I can tell him that you are all already in detention with me,' Professor Prewett.

'If you do that, then he will just take points off Gryffindor,' Mars pointed out.

Professor Prewett's lips became strangely thin.

'Professor Fudge and I have both been banned from removing points from each others houses,' Professor Prewett said, 'unless there is actual rule breaking going on in the classroom.'

Albus smiled for the first time in hours. He could imagine how much that would irritate Professor Prewett, but it probably explained why Professor Fudge had been in such a horribly foul mood lately. Professor Black had obviously banned the two sparring housemasters from taking away hundreds of points from each other's houses. No wonder Gryffindor had managed to hold on to the lead in the House Championship. Professor Fudge had not been able to steal it from them.

'So, if we are going to be in detention with you for the rest of the term,' Victoria said boldly, 'and it is not really a detention, then what are we going to be doing in here?'

Professor Prewett cleared her throat and peered at her Gryffindor first years through her monocle.

'As it happens,' Professor Prewett said, 'I know that Professor Fudge is doing an especially poor job of teaching you Defence against the Dark Arts. He does not feel that his Slytherins need to learn to defend themselves against themselves; and he does not particularly care whether Gryffindors get a good education. So, for the rest of this term, I am going to take it upon myself to give you all a lesson in Defence against the Dark Arts every night of the week for the rest of the term.'

The Gryffindor first years responded with a mixture of excitement and surprise. William immediately had a dozen questions, the girls were chattering with each other and Mars and Alabastor were grinning as though all their birthdays had come at once. Edward also looked delighted by this development. For some reason Albus did not feel as happy as he thought he should. There was something in the back of his mind, but he did not know what it was.

'Tonight we will begin with a simple spell to deflect flying objects,' Professor Prewett said, 'already used successfully by Dumbledore during that wonderful game of Quidditch he played the other day.'

The other first years grinned at Albus. He smiled back at them, feeling a whole lot better now. At least he had not got all nine his friends into a term's worth of detention. Professor Prewett instructed him to help Edward, while she went around the other eight teaching them how to perform the deflecting charm. It was a simple enough spell, but the Gryffindors were glad to at last be learning some real Defence against the Dark Arts. Professor Fudge's tedious lectures on Dark creatures were about as enlightening as reading a book by the famous adventurer Elviron Lockhart.

At the end of the "detention", Albus hung back to speak to Professor Prewett. The something that had been on his mind just had to come out.

'Professor,' Albus said, 'why are you just giving us first years extra lessons? Why not the seventh years who really need it?'

Professor Prewett gave Albus a penetrating stare. He had the distinct impression that she was probing his mind or his feelings.

'Albus, Professor Fudge is a teacher like the rest of us,' Professor Prewett said. 'He has to teach the older students properly otherwise they do poorly in OWLs or NEWTs and that reflects badly on him.'

'Then why does he teach us first years badly?' Albus asked; although he was starting to suspect that the reason had something to do with him.

'Albus,' Professor Prewett sighed. 'Professor Fudge was extremely angered by the scene in the Entrance Hall a few weeks ago. As you were at the centre of it, he seems to have developed a particular disliking for you.'

Something about the way Professor Prewett looked away at that moment told Albus that there was more to it than that, but he had no further excuses for staying back. He hurried back to Gryffindor Tower, suddenly feeling like he wanted to plan a Halloween prank with the Pirates.

The Pirates put their heads together in the corner of the Gryffindor common room and talked until late, trying their best to come up with a decent Halloween prank in the short space of two days before Friday. It was nearly midnight and the common room was empty of anyone else, when Albus remembered something Alabastor had said at dinner.

'Alabastor, you came up with an idea at dinner to attack the Slytherins with pumpkins, didn't you?' Albus asked.

'So you were listening,' Alabastor said.

'What are you thinking, Albus?' William asked eagerly.

'Well I do not know how to make the pumpkins attack only the Slytherins,' Albus said. 'But seeing as Professor Prewett has taught us all deflecting spells, we should be able to protect ourselves.'

'So what you are saying,' Edward said slowly, scratching his red head, 'is that you can charm the pumpkins to attack everyone in the Great Hall, even the Gryffindors?'

'Well, Slytherin are in third place,' Albus said, shrugging, 'so the Pirates have already done their job. Now we can just have some fun!'

The Pirates agreed on this plan of attack and spent another hour planning the whole thing. When everyone sat down for the Halloween feast on Friday, they would all get a rather squashy, juicy, orange surprise. All it would take was a couple of cleverly placed charms by Albus and William (who had asked Albus to teach him the food fight causing spell), and for the Gryffindor first years to be ready to deflect any pumpkins that tried to attack them during the feast.

On Friday night the Great Hall looked spectacular. Thin black candles floated underneath a stormy black ceiling, which flashed with lightning every few minutes. Interspersed between the candles were hundreds of glowing pumpkins that grinned wickedly at the Hogwarts students as they piled in to the Great Hall for dinner. Albus was feeling anxious and excited at the same time. It was the Pirates' first prank for some time, since the clash with Noxious, and Albus had misgivings. He was only in his first year, and he had a feeling somewhere inside that sometime soon he would make a mistake and one of his pranks would fail miserably. He hoped that tonight was not that night; especially after Professor Prewett had started teaching them Defence against the Dark Arts. She could easily turn their term of lessons into a real term of detentions.

Once everyone had started eating and was too busy stuffing their mouths to notice what anyone else was doing, Albus gave the signal to his friends to initiate the prank. A few carefully fired spells at the floating pumpkins set Albus and William's spell into motion. The pumpkins sprang to life and started flying down at the unsuspecting students of Hogwarts.

The Great Hall exploded into pandemonium. Students at all four tables were being assaulted by pumpkins. Not many people seemed to have brought their wands to the Halloween feast. As such, the Gryffindor first years were among the few standing tall and fending off the pumpkins. In fact, the Pirates did such a good job of deflecting pumpkins from the Gryffindor table that the Gryffindors were able to continue eating in relative peace while they watched the carnage unfolding at the other tables.

Probably the best sight was that of Professor Fudge cowering under the staff table while four pumpkins tried to get at him through the legs of the chairs. Professor Black had left the Great Hall in a towering rage. Professor Prewett was sitting calmly at the staff table, chewing on her dinner and watching her Gryffindor first years through her monocle. She seemed to be holding back a smile. Albus wondered what sort of shield charm she was using to stop the pumpkins from attacking her.

Victoria came up to Albus with a strange smile playing on the edge of her lips.

'Albus, there is something I have always wanted to do to you,' she said. Albus frowned, wondering what on earth she was talking about. She leaned forward and grabbed his wand, turning and running away as fast as she could, giggling hysterically.

'What are you doing, Victoria?' Albus cried; but it was too late. Three pumpkins soared down from the enchanted ceiling and splattered into him. The other Gryffindor first years laughed themselves silly, and even Albus had to admit that it was funny having the shoe on the other foot for a change.

And, as Albus thought as he licked pumpkin from his cheeks, being drenched in orange pumpkin pulp was not that bad. He was glad that everything was back to normal between him and his friends in the Pirates.

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Author's Note: Thanks to all those who continue to review my story. At every turn I like to hear what you have to say, as it helps me to continue my story in a direction that keeps you all happy! Thanks especially to: War of the Worlds, BovinePimp, Lizzy3, mekareQ, Adrianna Ashke, dd9736 and SammyStar.

I wanted to make a point in response to something BovinePimp said. If you read Chapter 2 again, you will find that Aberforth managed to grow six inches over the summer and Albus wonders if Aberforth is not maybe more capable than he thinks he is. I have plans for Aberforth; don't you worry about how capable he is.

Keep on reading and enjoying the story as much as I enjoy writing it!


	9. Aberforth's Secret

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"Sometimes what you are looking for is in the place you least expect it"

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Chapter 8 – Aberforth's Secret

As November rolled around the Hogwarts grounds became a wintry spectacle. The Forbidden Forest was decorated with a magnificent white coat. Several feet of snow covered the grounds and the lake froze over, a shimmering silver surface under the towering grey turrets of the castle. The students had to wear heavy coats over their robes. The Gryffindor first years were hardly distinguishable from a herd of yaks when they made their way across the grounds to the greenhouses for Herbology. With every breath they exhaled puffs of steam which trailed along through the air behind them.

Professor Juliet Longbottom took the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws for Herbology. Her lessons were usually fairly easy ones and consequently Albus found them to be dreadfully boring. He had discovered in his first few months at Hogwarts that he had a remarkable memory. All he had to do was read the appropriate chapter in his textbook before a lesson and he remembered everything he needed to know. As such he was always the first to answer questions, the first to finish his work in class and his homework. This was handy, because it gave him time to talk about plans for prankswith the Pirates in class.

On one late November morning Professor Longbottom had a surprise for the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws in their Herbology lesson, which meant that Albus actually had to pay attention.

'Now, I know I said we were going to cover Ever-flowering Frangipanis in today's lesson,' the round-faced Professor Longbottom said, 'but the centaurs trampled on them yesterday.'

'There are centaurs at Hogwarts?' Victoria said. Her dark eyes glowed with interest.

'Yes, a herd lives in the Forbidden Forest,' Albus said automatically. He had read about them in _Hogwarts – A History._

'Why would centaurs trample on your Frangipanis, miss?' asked one of the Ravenclaw girls.

'They were in a bad mood with me,' Professor Longbottom said. 'I went into the Forbidden Forest to pick some … to fetch something for one of my seventh year classes, and the centaurs caught me doing it. They were not very happy.'

'What were you picking?' William asked eagerly. His nose for mischief had caught scent of a mystery.

'It does not concern you,' Professor Longbottom said irritably, 'now, today's lesson. Seeing as the Ever-flowering Frangipanis have been trampled, we will be studying a very special plant with some unique properties. I normally save it for my third or fourth years but the Ever-flowering Frangipanis are a very popular lesson and I feel as though you deserve something interesting to make up for the disappointment.'

Albus rolled his eyes inwardly. There was nothing remotely interesting about Ever-flowering Frangipanis. It was a very low-grade magic that kept their blooms intact regardless of how icy and cold it was outside. He wondered what the replacement lesson was going to be about.

'Today we will be learning about a plant that provides the key ingredient in Purification Draughts and Protective Potions,' Professor Longbottom said.

'The mandrake?' cried an eager Ravenclaw student. It was something of a shame to the Ravenclaws that Dumbledore, a Gryffindor, was smarter than anyone in Ravenclaw. The Ravenclaw first years went out of their way to answer questions before Albus, usually answering wrong in their desperation.

'No, not the mandrake,' said Professor Longbottom, 'the mandrake is more useful in the creation of Restorative Draughts. Today we are going to be learning about the Birch tree.'

'The Birch tree?' cried Alabastor, a look of disgust on his face. Albus had to agree; what was interesting about an ordinary tree?

'Yes, the Birch tree,' Professor Longbottom said with a frown. She had noticed the Gryffindor's obvious lack of interest in the day's lesson. 'Will someone in Ravenclaw tell me some of the properties of the Birch?'

'The Birch is the symbolic tree of Samhain, the first month the Celtic calendar,' said a Ravenclaw boy by the name of Jenning Ranger. He wore a permanent smirk on his face, especially when delivering a correct answer in class. 'The Birch has many uses, including the manufacture of tanning oils by muggles and the creation of brooms by the Cleansweep Company.'

'Excellent answer, Ranger,' said Professor Longbottom. 'Ten points to Ravenclaw.'

William snorted next to Albus. Professor Longbottom was the housemistress for Ravenclaw. Albus was not too worried; Professor Longbottom was usually very fair in her administration of points. Albus had won plenty of points from her in Herbology lessons.

'As I said, the Birch tree has two main magical uses,' Professor Longbottom said. 'It is used in Purification Draughts and Protective Potions. It is especially effective in the protection of whom …?'

Albus strained his brain, trying to remember where he had read about the role of Birch in Protective Potions.

'Is it children?' Albus suggested.

'Correct, Dumbledore,' said Professor Longbottom. 'Five points to Gryffindor.'

William snorted even louder. Albus had to nudge him in the shoulder.

'She gave that Ranger idiot ten points!' William hissed under his breath. Albus did not bother suggesting to his friend that Ranger had given a longer, better answer than he had.

'The first month in the Celtic calendar is called Samhain, the Moon of Inception,' Professor Longbottom continued. 'The Birch tree is the symbol of Samhain, and its greatest magical property is the protection of children. A Protective Potion made with essence of Birch can protect an innocent child against the gravest of dangers for a certain period of time; often enough time for that child to escape that danger.'

'How does the Protective Potion do that, Professor?' Jenning Ranger asked. Albus noticed that he was still smirking.

'It depends upon the nature of the danger,' Professor Longbottom said. 'It might give the drinker immunity against any poison, the power of invisibility against a dangerous creature, or the ability to survive even the darkest of spells. Now, enough of Protective Potions; I am not the Potions Mistress. Today we will be learning how to plant a Birch seed and ensure that it is ready to sprout in Spring.'

William immediately turned to Albus, his eyes alight with mischief.

'Let us learn how to make this Protective Potion,' William said eagerly. 'We are children, so if it can make us invisible against Professor Fudge and the Slytherins then we can sneak into Slytherin and do some real piracy!'

'Um, no,' Albus said; shaking his head slowly. He smiled knowingly at William. 'It protects innocent children. Innocent, you hear?'

'We are innocent!' William protested, but the grin on his face told Albus that he knew better.

'Invisibility is quite beyond our level of magic at the moment,' Albus said simply. 'Now help me to plant this Birch seed. I am tired of doing everything in class.'

'But you are so good at it!' William said. Slightly mollified, Albus started adding the correct measures of different soil types and magical fertilisers into his pot. Mars and Alabastor laughed at William's smug expression.

'Next time, I work with Mars instead of you, William,' Albus said. The smug expression faded from William's face. Mars and Alabastor laughed again.

At the end of the lesson the Gryffindors trudged back to the main entrance of Hogwarts for lunch. Albus was in a daydream, thinking about the properties of Birch and wondering whether he would be able to figure out how to make a Protective Potion for children; when he thought he saw a flash of flame in the corner of his eye. He looked to his left but saw nothing but a small, dark figure hurrying up towards the castle from the Hogwarts gates. Albus walked slowly so that he fell behind the rest of the Gryffindors. Everyone had their hoods pulled over their ears and so nobody noticed that Albus was no longer with them. Albus wanted to know who this strange figure was.

The dark figure's path collided with Albus' at the bottom of the steps leading up to the entrance to Hogwarts. Albus spotted a familiarly shaped big nose and the gleam of blue eyes.

'Aberforth!' cried Albus.

'Albus!' cried Aberforth, dropping whatever it was that he was holding. Four large bottles clashed against the steps, but the glass was too thick and they did not break. Aberforth tried to regather them quickly, but Albus had already snatched one up and was reading the faded label on the bottle.

'Ogden's Old Firewhisky?' Albus cried. 'How did you get this? What were you doing at the Hogwarts gates? Are you dealing with crooks or something?'

'Oh just shut up for a moment Albus,' Aberforth said wearily, taking the bottle back from Albus and shovelling it in a rucksack hidden under his robe with the other three bottles. 'Come inside and I will tell you about it.'

Aberforth took Albus up to Gryffindor, explaining that everyone else was at lunch and they would not be disturbed.

'That is why I went now,' Aberforth said. 'I cannot get caught smuggling things into Gryffindor if everyone is at lunch.'

'I still want to know what you were doing at the Hogwarts gates,' Albus said.

'Hold your horses, little brother,' Aberforth said, chuckling.

'Stop calling me that or I will hex you,' Albus bickered.

'Whatever you say, little brother,' Aberforth retorted. Albus seriously considered whipping out his wand and giving Aberforth horse teeth or something like that, but reconsidered when Professor Sinistra came swooping past, on her way from the Astronomy tower to the Great Hall for lunch.

The Fat Lady let them into the Gryffindor common room. Aberforth made Albus wait in one of the couches while he went up to the third year bedroom to hide his Firewhiskies. Albus tapped his feet impatiently, rubbing his hands together in front of the blazing fire. He was still cold and hungry, and wanted to get to lunch. But he was also furious at Aberforth for doing such a stupid thing. What would his parents say, if Aberforth was expelled for dealing with crooks or, worse, leaving the school grounds without permission?

'Alright, out with it!' Albus snapped when Aberforth returned.

'Patience, little one,' Aberforth said, flopping into the couch next to Albus. 'Now, what was it you wanted to know?'

'Where did you get those Firewhiskies from?' Albus demanded. 'What were you doing at the Hogwarts gates? Have you been leaving the school grounds? Have you been …?'

'Alright, alright, I might as well just tell you everything from the start,' Aberforth said, smiling at his younger brother. 'When I had my first visit to Hogsmeades I discovered this terrific pub called the Hog's Head. Of course, none of us are allowed in. So I realised that I needed a way to get in. I was paging through a textbook on magical creatures in the library one day, doing my Care of Magical Creatures homework for Professor Equus, when I came across Phoenixes.'

Albus ears perked up even more. This story was not heading in a good direction. If Aberforth had been using Fawkes …

'So I read that phoenixes have the ability to disappear and reappear wherever they wish,' Aberforth continued. 'I wondered whether it was possible to disappear and reappear wherever I wanted to go if I was touching a phoenix. So I found Fawkes one afternoon; took hold of his tail feather and said, "The basement of the Hog's Head". Sure enough, we reappeared in a flash of flame inside the basement of that pub! I took as many Firewhiskies as I could hold under my arms, grabbed Fawkes by the tail and said, "Hogwarts grounds". He took me back at once!'

Albus wondered whether his face was currently purple or crimson. Whichever one it was, he felt hot enough to blow steam from his ears.

'YOU USED FAWKES TO STEAL FIREWHISKY FROM A PUB?' Albus roared. 'YOU HAVE BEEN USING MY PET TO COMMIT CRIMES?'

'Of course not,' Aberforth said. 'What do you think of me? I leave a generous pile of galleons in the basement whenever I take Firewhiskies. I am not a common crook.'

'WELL GOOD FOR YOU!' Albus yelled. 'AREN' YOU JUST A TOWER OF VIRTUE? YOU NEVER ASKED MY PERMISSION TO …'

Suddenly no sound was coming out of Albus' mouth. He realised that Aberforth had cast a silencing charm on him. He would not even be able to retaliate properly with a hex. Aberforth wrestled Albus to the floor and sat on him.

'Listen to me now, little brother,' Aberforth said, 'you have been neglecting Fawkes. If he is your pet, then give him treats and talk to him every day like everyone else does with their owls. Just because he is special does not mean he is above all that.'

'That is beside the point,' Albus said. His voice had come back very quickly because Aberforth's silencing charm was not very effective. He was still angry, but his cheeks were hot with shame. He had not been treating Fawkes very well; but that was because he thought the creature was too special to be treated like a common owl. The truth was that Albus had no idea how to be the owner of a phoenix. He was ashamed, but he still had plenty of anger to direct at his brother. He said, 'I do not want you to use Fawkes for things that could get you expelled! I do not want you to be kicked out!'

'And my little brother is allowed to be a little Pirate?' Aberforth said, winking.

'How did you know about that?' Albus cried.

'I know everything, little brother,' Aberforth said with a smirk that reminded Albus of Jenning Ranger.

'Sure you do,' Albus said, but could not help smiling himself.

'Look, Albus, how about we come to an agreement,' Aberforth said. 'I will not use Fawkes unless I have asked your permission, and I will only use him once or twice a term … you know, I have to keep supplies up for all these Gryffindor celebrations that you keep winning for us!'

Albus had to ponder for a moment. He was already forming a plan in his head to use Fawkes' appearing and disappearing abilities in the Pirates' schemes. How could he begrudge his older brother this small little thing when it had been Aberforth who had been smart enough to discover that Fawkes could carry passengers on its journeys?

'Very well,' Albus sighed, pretending that it was a terrible concession to allow Aberforth this privilege. 'But if you get Fawkes into trouble because he is helping you to smuggle Firewhiskies into Hogwarts …'

'Albus, Albus,' Aberforth said chidingly, 'Professor Prewett bought a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky from me the last time I smuggled them in. I am in no danger of getting either your bird or myself into trouble.'

'You tread very heavily on very thin ice,' Albus said. 'Now get off me before I die, and let us go to lunch.'

'We make a great pair of brothers,' Aberforth gloated, helping Albus to his feet. Albus rolled his eyes, but secretly agreed. He was glad that Aberforth had pointed out his failures as owner of a phoenix. He promised himself that he would make it up to Fawkes later on that day.

* * *

That night in the Gryffindor common room the Pirates gathered together in their usual corner and worked on their homework. The crackling fire from the hearth kept everyone warm while they worked. Albus was, as usual, the first to finish his homework. He handed his scroll on the correct handling of Birch seeds to William, who had been eyeing it all evening. Alabastor, Mars and Edward were immediately peering over William's shoulder for the answers. Victoria clicked her tongue irritably. The girls pretended that they wanted to do their homework by themselves, but Albus knew from experience that all five of them would be copying from Albus' parchment before the hour was out.

'I am just going to stretch my legs,' Albus said nonchalantly. He did not want any questions tonight. It was only seven in the evening and he would not get into trouble for wandering the corridors of Hogwarts. He wanted to find Fawkes, and suspected that the mysterious bird would be somewhere else in the castle.He was hardly ever in Gryffindor tower.

Albus departed the warmth of the common room through the portrait hole. He had to draw his coat around him as the cold corridor airhit his face. He headed for the Owlery, although he knew that Fawkes would never stoop to sleeping in a room full of owls.

Finding a floor full of droppings and a room populated by hooting owls, Albus wandered over to the open windows which looked out over the swaying trees of the Forbidden Forest. Owls were swooping in and out of the windows. It was night time, and the nocturnal birds were mostly out hunting.

'Fawkes, where are you?' Albus asked.

A flash of light and a wave of heat announced Fawkes' arrival by flame. Albus was surprised at how easy it was to summon the mythical creature.

'Do I just have to call you when I want you?' Albus asked, stroking the phoenix. It was standing on the ledge of the window, nuzzling his cheek with its beak. Fawkes nodded once in reply.

'I am sorry that I have been such a bad owner,' Albus said grimly. 'You know, I just thought that you are far too good for me. I do not really know how to be a good owner of a phoenix.'

Fawkes leaned forward and nuzzled Albus again in a reassuring way. The phoenix broke into a very short, soft song. Albus felt like a flame had been lit inside him. He felt better immediately.

'Alright then Fawkes, I need to know what you want from me,' Albus said. 'How can I be a good owner?'

Fawkes eyed Albus with his curious, dark orbs. They seemed to burrow into Albus' own blue eyes. They stared at each other for several moments. The longer Fawkes looked at Albus, the more Albus started to understand what the bird was thinking. When Fawkes finally blinked, Albus was staring with an open mouth at him.

Fawkes had communicated to Albus that he was an adventurous sort of phoenix and wanted to be included in Albus' escapades with the Pirates. He had also informed Albus that he would be able to assist Albus in getting to places that were far beyond his abilities as a first year student of magic. Furthermore, Fawkes wanted Albus to accompany him on some of his excursions back to his home in Egypt. Apparently that was where Fawkes vanished to every night to sleep. The last thing that Fawkes had 'told' Albus was that he wanted Albus to plant an Everliving Oak in the Forbidden Forest so that Fawkes could build a nest closer to Albus and not have to go to Egypt every night.

Albus was stunned by Fawkes' revelations. What an astounding bird, he thought to himself. He could not believe his fortune at having a phoenix as a pet.

'Where am I going to find an Everlasting Oak?' Albus asked.

Fawkes vanished in a flash of flame. Albus was slightly taken aback, but decided to wait and see if the phoenix was going to return. Sure enough, Fawkes reappeared five minutes later. He seemed to have something in his beak. Albus held out his hands and Fawkes dropped a large acorn into them.

'Well, I think I will have to read up about how to plant and look after an Everlasting Oak,' Albus said. Fawkes turned around and presented his rear end to Albus. At first Albus thought the bird was being rude, but then clued on. He took hold of Fawkes' tail.

An instant later Albus was in the Restricted Section of the library, standing right in front of a book entitled, _'Ye Olde and Everlasting Oake: A Guide to ye of the Herbology Trade'._ He settled down with his back against the shelves and started paging through the book. In minutes he had skimmed through the first ten pages, which dealt with planting the seed of the Everlasting Oak. He knew that with Fawkes' astonishing ability, he would be able to come back to this book whenever he wished. He returned the book to its place on the shelf and turned to take hold of Fawkes' tail.

The phoenix seemed to be behaving oddly. It was hopping from foot to foot, staring with wide eyes at Albus. In the instant that their eyes met Albus knew that he was about to be shown something extremely important but of great danger to him.

In a flash of flame Albus was taken to the interior of a very dark, musky cupboard. His first instinct was to cough, but he resisted when he remembered that Fawkes was warning him about great danger. That was when he heard two very familiar, unpleasant voices.

'So Longbottom successfully got it for me?' said the gruff and dour voice of Professor Black, the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

'Yes, she did,' said the voice of Professor Fudge. 'She was slightly suspicious, but I managed to convince her in the end that it was for something entirely different.'

'Excellent, Ebenezer,' said Professor Black. 'Now all that remains is Dumbledore.'

Albus froze instantly. Suddenly everything seemed a dozen times clearer. The musky stench coming from the floor of the cupboard that he was in, the sound of his own heart beating, his breathing, and the voices of the two men on the other side of the cupboard door.

'It will not be easy,' Professor Fudge said cautiously.

'I never said it would be,' Professor Black said. 'But do whatever it takes. We will use the boy if we have to, but it must be done. This may well be the most significant achievement in my life. If I am successful, you will be rewarded beyond your reckoning. Professor Ebenezer Fudge, Headmaster of Hogwarts. How does that sound?'

'It sounds too good for my ears, master,' Professor Fudge said.

Albus nearly yelped when Fawkes pecked him on the hand. He automatically reached out through the darkness and grabbed Fawkes' tail. In a flash he was thrown on to his bed in the first years' dormitory.

Fawkes vanished, leaving Albus to his own, confused thoughts. His heart was thumping too loudly to be real. The questions were rushing through his head faster than he could think. What achievement could possibly promote Professor Black to a position where he had the power to elect Professor Fudge as his replacement in the Headmastership? Even the Minister for Magic could not appoint a Headmaster. Why did Professor Fudge and Black want him, Albus Dumbledore, for their plans? What could he, as a first year, offer them? What _did_ Professor Longbottom fetch for them?

Albus closed the curtains around his bed, clambered under his bed sheets and curled into a ball. He did not feel like he could face his friends right now, or even face what he had just heard. He needed time to think, and fresh air to do it in. Right now, all he wanted was sleep. He wished that he could just vanish to Egypt like Fawkes could.

Albus had almost drifted off to sleep when his four fellow first year boys came in to get ready for bed. William ripped open Albus' curtain, but Albus kept his eyes shut so that he looked like he was asleep.

'How did he get back without us noticing?' William asked.

'I do not know,' Alabastor said. 'Maybe he has an invisibility cloak.'

'Albus does not have an invisibility cloak,' Mars said. 'We were all busy with our homework. Maybe we did not see him come in.'

'Then why didn't he come and talk to us?' William asked.

'Maybe he was tired,' Mars said. 'Now close the poor fellow's curtains, before the torchlight wakes him up!'

William closed Albus' curtains. Albus was now fully awake, and listened to the sounds of his friends getting into their pyjamas, slipping into bed and slowly falling into regular and wheezy breathing patterns. Albus found his brain thinking faster than a Golden Snitch again about what he had heard. He would have to tell the Pirates about this tomorrow. This was not something he could deal with alone. But it would have to wait.

Perhaps what disturbed Albus the most about the conversation he had heard was that Professor Fudge had called Professor Black "master". Somehow it had not sounded like a shortened version of "Headmaster". It had sounded far more ominous than that.

* * *

Author's Note: Once again, thanks to my reviewers. I am getting more than thirty people reading each new chapter, but only a few reviews! Please write a review and let me know what you think of my chapters! I welcome negative reviews too! It will help me to write a better story!

Thanks to mekareQ, Adrianna Ashke, dd9736, SammyStar, BovinePimp and War of the Worlds. You are all proving to be very regular and helpful reviewers. Do not be afraid to make suggestions to help me improve my writing.


	10. Hogwarts' Christmas Present

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"It is fear that drives us all our lives"

_Please note: I originally called the first chapter "Prologue" and then numbered Chapter 1, 2, 3… This has caused confusion. So I am going to start numbering the chapters the way that they appear on This should make matters simple. This chapter follows on directly from "Chapter 8 – Aberforth's Secret"

* * *

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Chapter 10 – Hogwarts' Christmas Present

Albus woke up the morning after he had overheard Professors Black and Fudge discussing what had sounded like evil plans; to the sound of the most beautiful song he had ever heard. He sat up at once, tearing open his curtains to find Fawkes on the window ledge, singing a glorious ode to the dawn. All four of the other first year boys were also awake, sitting up in bed and listening to Fawkes with rapt attention. The song of the phoenix rose and fell like a melody of a thousand voices, all in perfect harmony. It warmed Albus to the very core of his soul and seemed to vanish away the fears that had been biting away at him in his dreams.

'That was like a fire inside me,' Edward said when Fawkes had finished singing, and vanished in a ball of flame. The scrawny redhead climbed out of bed and virtually hopped into his clothes. The other boys did the same. Albus felt like he was bouncing on the rooftops of clouds. If only Fawkes woke him up this way every day, he thought; then he would start every day in the best of moods.

But, as Albus realised on the way down to breakfast, Fawkes had probably sung that lullaby to cheer him up after what he had heard last night. The heavy feeling in his stomach returned and Albus decided that he would have to tell the Pirates today.

Unfortunately Albus could not get a word in edgeways at breakfast. The owl post came with messages for most of the Gryffindor first years from their parents, detailing plans for Christmas. Albus himself got a letter from his beloved father Archaeon. It read:

_To my dearest Albus,_

_Your mother and I gladly await your homecoming for Christmas in a few short weeks' time. We would welcome any of your friends, should their parents be unable to have them for the holidays. Do let us know by Cleopatra._

_With all my love,_

_Your father_

_Archaeon_

Albus fondly patted the spotted Dumbledore family owl, which was lapping at the milk in Albus' bowl. He listened as his friends avidly discussed their plans.

'I cannot wait to get home to the estate,' William said. 'I miss my home comforts.'

'And Hogwarts' isn't good enough for you, William Potter?' Victoria exclaimed. 'What, do you live in a mansion or something?'

William seemed to go red at this point and buried his nose in finishing his porridge.

'My house is not quite as posh as William's,' Alabastor was explaining to Edward, 'but we have plenty of space for Quidditch, and seeing as you and I live close together you can come and visit.'

'Do you have icy slopes at your house?' Edward asked. When Alabastor nodded, Edward said, 'I can teach you how to go sledding!'

While Edward started telling Alabastor about the muggle winter sport of snow sledding, Albus noticed that Mars had been decidedly quiet during the discussion. He leaned over and tapped his friend on the shoulder.

'What are you doing for the holidays, Mars?' Albus asked.

'Oh, me?' said Mars, giving Albus a sad look with his green eyes. 'I am staying at Hogwarts.' He said this very fast, went red in the face and busied himself in a piece of toast.

'Are you not going home?' Albus asked.

'No, my parents do not want me back,' Mars said. He immediately seemed to regret what he had said, going an even brighter shade of red. As if to cover up, he started babbling. 'I am the youngest by ten years, bit of an inconvenience to my parents really … father wanted to retire from the Ministry but having me held him back. I do not blame them for it …'

'Say nothing further,' Albus said, making up his mind in a trice. 'You are coming to the Dumbledore's for Christmas, you hear?'

'Oh, Albus, I could not impose on your parents,' Mars protested half-heartedly, but the relief was evident in his shining green eyes.

'Think nothing of it,' Albus said. He pulled out a spare scroll of parchment and wrote a quick note to his parents; informing them that he and Mars would be there for the Christmas holidays.

'Thank you Albus,' Mars said, looking like all his Christmases had come at once, which, Albus supposed, they probably had. He realised that breakfast was over and he did not have time to tell the Pirates about last night's conversation between Professors Fudge and Black. He would have to wait until later.

To make Albus feel even worse, the Gryffindors had Defence against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins and their housemaster that morning. He really did not want to spend an hour in the same room as someone who was plotting to do something with him to make Professor Black powerful, but he had no choice.

Professor Fudge gave Albus an unnaturally friendly smile when he entered the class with the other Pirates. Albus noticed that his teeth were the colour of tobacco, with patches of black. He was unlucky enough to catch a whiff of Professor Fudge's breath. It smelled like dog breath. Which, Albus supposed, was quite normal for someone who; for all intents and purposes, looked like a dog.

'Good morning, first years,' Professor Fudge growled, leering at the Gryffindors and baring his teeth in a smile at the Slytherins. 'I have a very special lesson for you today … about some very, very dark creatures.'

A shudder of excitement passed around the Slytherins in the class. The Gryffindors shifted in their seats. Professor Fudge had progressively been teaching them about darker and darker creatures, and he rarely so much as covered how to defend against them. The Gryffindors knew the reason why; it was the reason why Professor Prewett was taking them for nightly lessons in Defence against the Dark Arts: Professor Fudge did not want the Gryffindor first years to be able to defend themselves. Albus was starting to believe that it had less to do with the other Gryffindor first years than himself. After what he had heard last night, he could only begin to imagine what Professors Fudge and Black had in store for him.

'Today we learn about Dementors,' Professor Fudge said. 'Who can tell me what a Dementor is?'

'A soul sucker!' cried Noxious Black. His Slytherin cronies laughed, and Noxious turned to grin at them all. Professor Fudge smiled paternally at his star student.

'Not exactly the term I would use, Noxious,' Professor Fudge said greasily, 'but good enough for ten points to Slytherin, nonetheless. Does anyone else care to illustrate what a Dementor is?'

'A Dementor is a thoroughly dark creature with the ability to suck the very happiness out of a person,' Albus said, bravely staring at Professor Fudge as he said it. 'Dementors feed on our deepest fears and worst memories, and can drive the most powerful wizards and witches insane.'

'I do not recall giving you permission to speak, Dumbledore,' Professor Fudge said. Albus sighed, knowing that Gryffindor were about to lose ten points. 'However, that was an excellent description of Dementors. Fifteen points to Gryffindor.'

Albus nearly fell off his seat, and William actually did. The Gryffindors stared at Professor Fudge with mouths wide open, while the Slytherins started muttering at one another. Noxious cast Albus some foul looks. Albus was not in the slightest bit pleased with this latest development. Professor Fudge was definitely not behaving normally, and it surely had something to do with last night's discussion with Professor Black.

'Dementors can only be repelled with one spell, one that requires the witch or wizard to draw on the happiest moment in their lives,' Professor Fudge continued, ignoring the ruckus that his awarding of points to Gryffindor had caused. 'The spell for repelling a Dementor is _Expecto patronum_. I will not be teaching this spell to you until you are in your OWL years. I will be teaching you about the origins and powers of Dementors. So please pick up your quills and take notes as I speak.'

Professor Fudge started droning away in his usual tedious manner. Albus' attention started to drift to the words that he had heard Professors Fudge and Black exchange last night. He stared at the wall, trying to remember everything that had been said and trying to work out what it all meant. What possible use could he, a first year, be to two adult wizards who were trying to become really powerful?

'DUMBLEDORE!' roared Professor Fudge. Albus snapped out of his doze and discovered that Professor Fudge's dog face was a few inches in front of his. He nearly choked on the awful fumes coming from Professor Fudge's mouth while he yelled. 'I have been lecturing for ten minutes and you have taken absolutely no notes whatsoever! You are clearly not paying attention in my class! Go to Wilfred Umbridge's office in the dungeons NOW, and tell him to give you punishment two hundred and twenty two!'

Albus' throat went as dry as it could go without having Saharan sand rubbed on his tongue. He left the classroom feeling like his life had ended and he had turned into a ghost. Was this part of Professors Fudge and Black's plans? He almost disobeyed Professor Fudge and headed for Professor Prewett's office, but changed his mind when he realised that that would mean admitting that he had been in a cupboard eavesdropping on the Headmaster. He wished that he had told the Pirates about Professor Fudge's evil plans. Now he could be on his way to his doom, and nobody was any the wiser.

Wilfred Umbridge, the caretaker, looked delighted to see Albus at the door to his office in the dungeons. Caretaker Umbridge had a hunched back, half his teeth missing, a crusty bald patch and ugly grey hair which hung in strands down his misshapen back. Long claws reached out and grabbed Albus by the arm, pulling him into the office.

'I have been waiting for an excuse to punish you, you filthy Gryffindor,' Umbridge spat gleefully. 'What has Ebenezer sent you in for?'

Albus had half a mind to say, 'punishment two hundred and twenty one' or 'punishment two hundred and twenty three', but seeing as he did not know what either one was, he had to tell the truth.

'Punishment number two hundred and twenty two,' Albus said weakly.

'At long last!' exalted Umbridge, nearly ripping Albus' arm off as he threw his hands in the air. 'I have waited for years to administer this one! Joy of joys; what a tremendous moment this is.'

Albus knew that this could not be good. Umbridge went around behind his desk and started scribbling away on his parchments. He could not stop muttering in glee to himself, literally shaking with excitement. When he had accounted for the paperwork, he used a rusty old key to open a dusty cupboard in the corner. He pulled out what was unmistakeably a whip.

'Now, to keep you from running away, I am going to have to chain you up,' Umbridge said. He grabbed Albus roughly and pushed him to face the wall. He made Albus remove his robes and then chained his arms so that he was standing spread-eagled, his nose up against the cold stone wall.

'Brace yourself; Dumbledore,' Umbridge said nastily. He was breathing heavily, sounding like this was the greatest moment in his life.

Albus ground his teeth together, knowing that whatever was about to happen, it was going to hurt like blazes.

CRACK! The first lash hit Albus square in the middle of the back. He opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out of his mouth. His legs nearly gave way. CRACK! Another blow hit the bare skin of his back. Umbridge started to lash away with unrestrained abandon. Somehow Albus managed to count the number. It was the only thing he could do to keep his mind occupied and off the incredible pain that was surging through his body.

Umbridge stopped after forty lashes, by which time Albus' knees were buckled and he was only held up by his chained arms. His back was burning with pain.

'Are you wondering why there is no blood trickling down your back, Dumbledore?' Umbridge wheezed. 'This whip is enchanted to conduct a vanishing whiplash. No one will ever know that you have been lashed, even if I lash you to death!'

CRACK! The forty first of the blows hit Albus between the shoulder blades. He suddenly feared for his life. Umbridge clearly had no intention of stopping. CRACK! Number forty two hurt about forty two times more than the first one.

'WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERCY ARE YOU DOING?' screamed a very familiar, very welcome voice. Professor Prewett was standing in the open doorway, her wand out and levelled at Wilfred Umbridge. Albus could barely see her through his haze of tears, but he imagined that she looked every bit as terrifying as she normally did.

'I am just doing Professor Fudge's will,' Umbridge said defiantly. 'He ordered that this miscreant be appropriately punished.'

'Never in all my years have I seen such cruelty!' screamed Professor Prewett. She magicked Albus out of his chains. He collapsed to the cold floor of Umbridge's office, not an ounce of energy left in his bones. 'Report to the Headmaster's office at once and explain yourself. I will be along once I have seen to it that you have not murdered Dumbledore!'

Albus felt tender hands lifting him up into the air. His head was spinning. He knew that he was about to faint. Everything went black.

* * *

Albus' eyes opened and he saw a dozen familiar faces all looking down at him with equally concerned expressions. Professor Prewett's monocle was the largest object in his range of vision, which meant that her head was right above his.

'Ah, so you are with us again, Dumbledore,' she said shakily. She stood to her full height again. 'I will have words with you when you are recovered, but first I must attend to some rather … pressing matters.' Her lips became thin and she swirled out of the room. Albus guessed that she must be off to the Headmaster's to deal with Professor Fudge and Caretaker Umbridge's actions.

Albus' attention turned to the other people gathered around his bed. All ten of the Pirates were there, as well as Aberforth and, strangely, Jonathan Glastonbury, the Gryffindor Seeker.

'We went to find Professor Prewett as soon as class was over,' William said urgently. 'We knew that punishment two hundred and twenty two would be terrible.'

'We never knew how terrible,' Victoria said, sniffing. She looked like she had been crying.

'Do you want me to murder Professor Fudge for you, Albus?' Aberforth asked; a look of intense anger on his face. Albus was astonished by the power that Aberforth seemed to radiate. It was a look he had only seen previously in his father. Archaeon had that same ability to radiate heat, his blue eyes burning with emotion.

'That will not be necessary,' Albus said, chuckling a little. Even though his back ached, he felt a lot better. Madam Rose must have given him a pain relieving draught.

'I just came on behalf of the other Gryffindors,' Jonathan said, realising that he was out of place among Albus and his friends. 'Madam Rose would not let more of us in, but I promise you half the house would be here otherwise. I came in because Umbridge did something similar to me.'

Albus remembered how Professor Fudge had tried to thwart Gryffindor's chances in the Quidditch by having Umbridge hang Glastonbury from his toes.

'Thank you, Jonathan,' Albus said. 'You can tell the Gryffindors that I will be fine. Aberforth, could you send mother and father an owl and tell them what happened? Just let them know that I am fine, I do not want them coming to Hogwarts to cause a fuss.'

Jonathan and Aberforth left, leaving Albus alone with the Pirates. The time had come to tell them about what he had overheard last night. He revealed the discovery Aberforth had made about Fawkes being able to take passengers wherever he disappeared to, and how the phoenix had taken him into a cupboard in a room where Professors Black and Fudge were discussing what sounded like evil plans. When he was finished, the Gryffindor girls looked pale and the boys looked angry.

'Whatever they are planning, they will not succeed,' William said boldly. 'We will help you Albus, no matter what it takes.'

'We cannot do this on our own,' Mars said wisely. 'I think you should tell somebody; like Professor Prewett perhaps.'

'Professor Prewett goes through enough for me,' Albus said. He could imagine her at that very moment, demanding that Professor Fudge and Umbridge be hoofed out of the school, while Professor Black pretended to listen but did nothing about it. 'No, the Pirates are going to have to deal with this alone.'

'I do not know what we can hope to achieve,' Emily Marchbanks said, shaking her proud head. 'We are just first years.'

'We can do three things to begin with,' Albus said, thinking very quickly as always. 'Firstly we need to practice harder at our Defence against the Dark Arts with Professor Prewett. I know that Professors Fudge and Black are planning something dark, and you all need to be able to defend yourselves if you are going to help me. Secondly, we need to find out what it was that Professor Longbottom fetched for Professor Black that made the centaurs so angry. Whatever it was, I think it will give us a really big clue. Lastly, I want the Pirates to do a prank to rival all pranks before we leave for the Christmas holidays. Professor Fudge and Caretaker Umbridge deserve something horrible as thanks for what they did to me today.'

The Pirates all nodded fervently, entirely in agreement with Albus. This was the Pirates' most important assignment yet. Even so, Albus caught a glimpse of sparkles in the eyes of Mars, Alabastor and William in particular. The thought of coming up with a prank to rival all pranks was like a dream for all of them.

* * *

A few weeks later and the Pirates had come no closer to thinking up a prank to beat all pranks. They had a number of ideas and had drawn up plans for producing everlasting indoor snowfalls and sleet storms. These spells were highly complex, however, and Albus was very unsure whether any of them would work. He needed something better, yet no matter how hard he wracked his brains, he could not think of anything.

Furthermore, Caretaker Umbridge and Professor Fudge had escaped any kind of reprimand for what they had done. Archaeon Dumbledore had threatened to come to Hogwarts, but Albus had sent no less than seven letters by owl telling his father not to do so. Somehow this felt like a battle of wills that Albus wanted to win by himself. He just had to put up with Professor Fudge's wicked grins in class, and the constant heckling from the Slytherins over what had transpired in Umbridge's office.

Fortunately Albus had another task to keep his mind occupied. He had to plant the Everlasting Oak for Fawkes so that his phoenix would have a permanent place to reside nearby Hogwarts. He bravely ventured into the Forbidden Forest after class every day, using Fawkes' disappearing and reappearing ability so that nobody could see him walking across the snowy Hogwarts grounds into the Forest.

Fawkes and William were giving Albus company one afternoon; as he applied a magical fertiliser to the ground where he had planted the seed of the Everlasting Oak at the new moon, a few days prior. William, as always, was talking about the prank.

'I think we need to add mist to the spell as well,' William was saying. 'I think that everlasting snowfall and sleet is great, but if you add in mist then maybe Umbridge will get lost in it.'

'And who is going to do this spell?' Albus asked, enchanting the earth with a watering spell.

'You, of course,' William said carelessly. 'If we can hex the Entrance Hall to mist over then we could cause real havoc.'

'Look, William, we need something far better than this,' Albus said. 'Professor Prewett could undo any of my charms in a second. Professors Black and Fudge could probably undo them in a few minutes. We need something that is going to last for a hundred years, until long after Professors Black and Fudge are dead and buried and their stinking memory is forgotten.'

'Those are some heavy words, Albus,' William said. 'But I am all out of ideas.'

Fawkes was behaving very strangely. He was facing away from Albus and William, waving his rear end at them. Albus slowly realised that Fawkes had an idea.

'William, grab on to one of Fawkes' tail feathers,' Albus said eagerly. William did so, with a look of profound confusion on his face. Albus did too, and they were suddenly whirled away in a flash of flame.

They reappeared in a musty smelling room, cluttering with hundreds of boxes and pieces of ancient furniture. William and Albus coughed and blinked, rubbing their eyes free of the dust that had filled them. When they could see properly, they discovered that they were staring at a large and aged cupboard. It was creaking at its hinges, and shaking ever so slightly.

'What is this place?' William cried. 'Where are we?'

'I think Fawkes has found us our prank,' Albus said confidently, although he was also slightly frightened by the strange whispering that seemed to be coming from behind the cupboard doors. 'We just have to work out what it is. Alohamora.'

Albus opened the door with a flick of his wand. The world suddenly exploded around him. Drawers were flying through the air. Boxes bounced from the ceiling. William had hit the floor and Albus was forced to as well. An earthly screech filled the air. It sounded like all the ghouls and ghosts of the world had been unleashed. Albus wondered if he had opened the legendary Pandora's Box by accident.

'I HAVE BEEN SET FREE!' wailed a voice. 'WHEEEEEEEE! I HAVE BEEN SET FREE AFTER ONE HUNDRED YEARS!'

Suddenly the noise had died down, the screeching that had filled the air fading into silence, and the cupboards and boxes were no longer flying around. Albus and William slowly got themselves up from the floor and looked up into a wickedly grinning face.

'To whom do I owe the pleasure of my freedom?' said the bizarre being in a greasy voice. It bowed to the two boys. It was a ghostly sort of figment, dressed in ridiculous fourteenth century pantaloons, frills and a feathered cap. It had naughty eyes and a mischievous grin as wide as its face.

Albus silently thanked Fawkes, and summoning every ounce of mischief in him, came up with a suitable lie.

'Greetings, I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,' Albus said, winking at William. 'This is Deputy Headmaster Professor William Potter.'

'You look mighty young to be a Headmaster, your Headmastership,' said the being.

'Of course,' Albus said. 'I gather that you are the sort of spirit that does not warm to authority?'

'I despise it!' the creature yelled, flinging a box through a window in his state.

'Well then, we have an offer you cannot refuse,' Albus said. 'How would you like to become a resident of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?'

'Ho, humble me?' asked the spirit. 'Why that sounds like my cup of tea!'

'Well then,' Albus said, 'think of us as the Headmaster and Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts, and help us to give the real Headmaster, Deputy Headmaster and Caretaker as much grief as possible.'

The spirit bowed as low as he possibly could, his greasy nose touching the ground.

'Peeves, the Poltergeist, at your service,' he said, letting out a cackling laugh. 'You can rely on me, your Headmastership and Deputy Headmastership, to see that the real ones and the Caretaker have a dreadfully dreadful time!'

Albus got Peeves and William to take hold of Fawkes' tail with him, and a few moments later they had appeared in Gryffindor Tower.

'Ho, Peeves!' Albus cried, before the poltergeist could storm off to cause trouble.

'Yes your Headmastership?' Peeves asked.

'Do me a favour and leave Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw alone as much as possible,' Albus said. 'You can bug them occasionally, but I would prefer if Slytherin and the three people we talked about get the worst of your temper.'

'Absolutely, your Headmastership, sir,' Peeves said. He gave the wickedest laugh and sped away, sounding absolutely delighted to have something mischievous to do.

* * *

Albus and the Pirates could never have foreseen the success of this latest act of mischief, which turned out to be the prank to rival all pranks. They nicknamed the arrival of Peeves, "Hogwarts' Christmas Present", and indeed he was. The poltergeist proved a hundred times more effective than any everlasting snowfall and sleet storm spell, even with mist added on. He terrorised meal times in the Great Hall. He would bombard the staff and Slytherin tables with flagons of pumpkin juice, taking care to see that most of it landed on the heads of either Professors Black and Fudge or Caretaker Umbridge. He assaulted staff and Slytherins with potatoes and other vegetables. Sometimes he would come sweeping down from the ceiling and fly across the surface of the tables, taking _everything_ with him; spoons, plates, bowls, forks, knives, flagons, jugs and platters; food included. Peeves could not resist doing the same to the other three houses when he got bored with Slytherin, something which Albus happily allowed. Everyone seemed to know that the Slytherins were getting the worst of it, so were only mildly annoyed by his attacks on the other houses.

Even better were Peeves' actions around the school. He toppled suits of armour, ransacked the trophy cabinets, and stormed through the Headmaster's, Professor Fudge's and Caretaker Umbridge's offices. Soon some of the Headmaster's private documents were floating around the school, as well as torn up lists of school punishments from Umbridge's office. Defence against the Dark Arts became "Defence against Peeves", as Professor Fudge found it impossible to conduct any more lessons. Albus and the Pirates could not have been happier as the Christmas holidays approached.

Funnily enough, Defence against the Dark Arts tutorials or Charms lessons with Professor Prewett did not seem to be affected by Peeves presence. When the poltergeist tried to throw a Charms textbook at Professor Prewett's head, she cast a remarkable spell at the fiend which sent him spiralling into her bookcase.

'Terribly sorry; your Majesty,' Peeves said greasily. He stopped in front of Albus' and William's desks. 'Good day to you, your Headmastership and Deputy Headmastership. What would you like me to do now?'

Albus cast a wary look at Professor Prewett, but her thin lips were curled into a smile. He risked it.

'Find Umbridge and blow raspberries behind his head for the next three days without stopping,' Albus said. 'And remember to spend Christmas throwing Christmas tree decorations at Professor Fudge's head.'

'Absolutely; your Headmastership; sir, whatever you say,' Peeves said happily, and swooped out of the room.

'Dumbledore and Potter,' Professor Prewett said harshly, eyeing them through her monocle, 'One hundred points to Gryffindor for such an innovative method of protesting against the establishment. I am proud to be the housemistress of Gryffindor.'

Albus and the Pirates climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express for the trip home for Christmas wearing the broadest grins they had ever worn. Peeves had been true to his word and was driving Umbridge mad. They knew that they could rely upon the poltergeist to ruin Professor Fudge's Christmas. Knowing what was going on at Hogwarts while they were at home promised to make this the best Christmas ever for all of them.

* * *

Author's Note: Wow! Past fifty reviews and already at sixty! Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing. Also; I have been added to a C2 community. Check out "Young Dumbledore fics". Many thanks to my reviewers: Morag Camshrom, zimzoogle09, Linwen21490, War of the Worlds, Adrianna Ashke, Thomas Straub, The Allknowing Tonks, SammyStar, mekareQ, Mimbulus, dd9736 and BovinePimp. You guys are all the best!

Keep on enlightening me as to your opinions of this story!


	11. The Gateway of Shadows

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"Every bird must flap its wings and fly to leave the nest"

* * *

This chapter is dedicated to the victims of the cowardly terrorist attacks on London. My thoughts and prayers are with the families of the victims and the survivors.

* * *

Chapter 11 – The Gateway of Shadows

Albus got progressively more excited with each passing turn of the Hogwarts Express pistons. The steady chug of the train was taking him closer to Platform 9¾ and to a reunion with his parents. It had been four long months away from his favourite two people in the world: Archaeon and Lubo Dumbledore, although; Albus had to admit that his list of favourite people had grown by numbers during his first term at Hogwarts. There were the Pirates; William, Alabastor and Mars in particular, not to mention Victoria, whom Albus quietly admired from afar. There was Professor Prewett, stern on the face of it but secretly as fun-loving and mischievous as everyone else in Gryffindor. And as Albus thought about it, he realised that Hogwarts had brought him closer to his brother Aberforth than he had ever been.

When the conductor blasted on his whistle and the Hogwarts Express rolled to a stop, Albus joined the throng of students clamouring to get out and at their parents for the Christmas holidays. Mars stuck close to Albus' shoulder, as if afraid that he might lose him and be left to get back on the train and return to Hogwarts for Christmas.

'Mother! Father!' yelled Albus, catching sight of his parents. His mother was first to hug him. Lubo's long white hair fell over both their faces as she kissed her son in greeting. Her cheeks seemed rosier than ever and her twinkling blue eyes conveyed her gladness at seeing her youngest son again. Meanwhile Archaeon greeted Albus by way of handshake. The great man with his broad chest and sun-lined face was only marginally taller than everyone else on Platform 9¾, yet seemed to tower above them all. He had an aura about him. Albus was extremely proud to be his son.

'This is Mars McGonagall,' Albus said, introducing his shy friend. Mars stepped forward to receive a peck on the cheek from Lubo and an appraising look from Archaeon.

'Good day, Mr and Mrs Dumbledore,' Mars said meekly.

'Pleased to have you, Mars,' Archaeon boomed. 'You must be one fine wizard to have made friends with our Albus.' Mars went red in the cheeks and withdrew into his shell again.

Albus had cleverly begged Archaeon not to mention Mars' parents to him in the owls he had sent them before the holidays. He had suspected that Archaeon might have mentioned Mars' parents to him, because they both worked at the Ministry of Magic. Archaeon seemed to have listened.

'There you are, Aberforth,' Lubo gushed, as their lanky oldest son turned up. Aberforth gave Albus a cheeky wink and hugged their mother.

'Have all three of you got your brooms?' Archaeon said. 'If so, I shall enchant your belonging and we …'

'No, wait father,' Albus said hurriedly. 'Fawkes knows this really amazing trick. If we all hold our trunks and things with one hand and grab hold of Fawkes' tail with another, then we will get home in a trice.'

'Sounds like a quirky little experiment,' Archaeon said, but his eyes twinkled slightly with curiosity. The Dumbledore's and Mars must have made a strange sight standing on Platform 9¾, all trying to take hold of the tail of a fiery crimson and gold bird.

Once Albus was sure that everyone was touching Fawkes' tail, he named their destination.

'The Dumbledore family residence, if you will, Fawkes,' he said.

A searing burst of flame lit up around them. Not an instant later and Archaeon and Lubo Dumbledore were staring in amazement at the entrance to their house.

'That phoenix is more than handy,' Archaeon commented. Then his eyes narrowed on Aberforth, as if smelling mischief in the air. 'Aberforth, you have not been using Fawkes' apparating abilities to cause trouble?'

'No, father, do you honestly think Albus would let _me_ play with his bird?' Aberforth protested, reserving a subtle wink for his little brother.

'I wonder if it could take us to Paris,' Lubo mused. 'I have always wanted to go there.'

The Dumbledore residence was a white, gabled house with arched windows that stared out at you like eyes. Because it was mid-winter, the house seemed to merge with the snow that covered everything else; the lawns, the trees and even the chimney. Lubo Dumbledore had a way with fairies and had attracted a large colony of them to inhabit the trees either side of the front door. As such they glowed and twinkled in a festive yuletide manner. Mars was awestruck.

'Gee whiz, Mr and Mrs Dumbledore, your house is amazing,' Mars said.

'It is not that wonderful,' Albus said modestly. 'Come, let me show you inside. I want you to see my room!'

The boys hurried through the front door. They were barely inside with their shoes off when the Dumbledore house elf, Nibs, was trying to ply them with food and hot mugs of chocolate. Mars walked around with a mouth hanging wide open while Albus showed him from room to room. Mars was particularly impressed by Archaeon Dumbledore's shelves full of ancient books and treasures brought back from overseas. Finally Albus managed to drag Mars up the stairwell to his bedroom.

Albus' bedroom walls were covered with images, charts, diagrams and maps; mostly derived from Archaeon's journeys. Whenever Albus' father returned from an Archaeowizard expedition, Albus would demand his leftover scrolls, parchments and notes. Soon these were compiled into complex arrangements on Albus' wall. He thirsted for knowledge of any kind, especially the sort of knowledge that one could not find in a book. Mars was a little taken aback by all this.

'This explains why you are so smart,' Mars said, looking uncomfortable.

'I just find it interesting,' Albus said, feeling his cheeks growing warm. He realised that he must look a terrible bookworm. Trying to hide his embarrassment, he pulled out a tattered copy of _Quidditch through the Ages_ and showed Mars, hoping that he could demonstrate that he also liked his sports. It was silly really, he realised, having to prove that he liked sports; seeing as he had won Gryffindor their match against Slytherin. But Mars soon quelled Albus' fears of acceptance.

'Albus,' Mars declared, 'this is a marvellous room in a marvellous house and your family are ruddy brilliant. I am so glad I am here for Christmas.'

Albus grinned, relief washing over his skin.

'Come, I have an old chess set in my cupboard,' Albus said. 'Care for a game of wizard's chess in front of the fire in the living room? We can get Nibs to bring us hot chocolates and biscuits while we play.'

Mars nodded enthusiastically and the boys piled downstairs for a thrilling afternoon of duelling over the chess board. At least two bishops were decapitated, five castles were blown to smithereens and their third and final match ended in the ruthless murder of Albus' black king by a violently angry white queen yielding a sledgehammer and an axe. Mars had beaten Albus by two games to one. For the first time Albus felt what it was like to be second best at something, and he knew that he would be spending the rest of the Christmas break trying to beat Mars at chess.

* * *

Christmas Eve was a night to remember at the Dumbledore's. Their neighbours, the Jones' family, came over to share in the Christmas Eve feast. The oak dining table was magically stretched to fit all ten people. There were Archaeon, Lubo, Aberforth and Albus Dumbledore, Mars McGonagal, Ewen and Elfrida Jones and their three boys, Thomas, Gareth and Davey. Mars was clearly having the time of his life, but Albus reckoned that he had rarely had such a good evening himself.

'And then Albus looks at Professor Prewett to check what she is thinking,' Mars said. He was busy recounting a story from Charms class a week ago to Thomas and Gareth. Davey had been there; the Hufflepuffs shared Charms with the Gryffindors. 'Professor Prewett was smiling, so Albus turns to Peeves and says in an important voice; "Follow Umbridge around for three days blowing raspberries behind his head without stopping", and then he goes, "and don't forget to spend Christmas throwing decorations at Professor Fudge's head!" The Jones' boys were positively howling with laughter by now, tears streaming down their faces. Mars continued, 'and guess what Peeves says? He says, "Yes, your Headmastership sir, whatever you say!"'

'Albus,' Thomas said, wiping his eyes dry, 'you are a master, I tell you.'

Archaeon, who had been engaged in a loud conversation with a drunken Mr Jones, seemed to have lost none of his powers.

'Do not tell me that you have turned into a rapscallion like your older brother, Albus?' Archaeon said, rather sternly. Albus wondered how much he had overheard.

'No, Albus is still a sweet angel,' Aberforth said defensively. 'He has to keep me in line. That's what.'

'Then what is this about some Peeves?' Archaeon demanded.

'Oh, Peeves could not harm a fly,' Thomas said, standing up for Albus.

'But to Fudge, he is like the invincible, never-ending fly!' Mars cried. The boys cracked into gales of laughter once more, Aberforth banging his fists on the table and Davey falling off his chair because he had laughed so hard. Archaeon rolled his eyes, shook his head and went back to debating something with Mr Jones.

Aberforth must have slipped some Ogden's Old Firewhisky into the four parents' drinks, because they were all crawling around the kitchen floor giggling like infants by eleven o'clock. That gave Aberforth license to break out the Butterbeers, which soon had the six boys equally tipsy. By the time the Jones' gathered their wits about them enough to stagger out of the Dumbledore home, taking their sons with them, it was three o'clock in the morning. Albus and Mars crawled up the stairwell, giggling every time they fell flat on their faces, and collapsed into their beds at last. Who needed Christmas when Christmas Eve was this much fun?

The Dumbledores would have slept until dinner time on Christmas Day if it hadn't been for Albus' remarkable pet. They were all aroused at six o'clock in the morning by the phoenix's splendid ode to the morning. Life surged through their veins, their eyes popped open and all the after effects of Firewhiskies and Butterbeers seemed to vanish.

'Happy Christmas!' yelled Albus to Mars, who yelled it back. The two boys tore aside their bed sheets and thundered downstairs in a race to see who could get to their presents first. Aberforth had beaten them to it. Both Albus and Mars crashed into the back of him as they came storming into the living room.

'Show a modicum of respect for your elders,' Archaeon grumbled, shuffling into the living room in his dressing gown and slippers, 'and have some patience.' Fawkes' song had not quite erased all the Firewhisky from his system.

'How much did you slip into his drink?' Albus whispered into Aberforth's ear.

'I kept slipping some in all night,' Aberforth replied. 'He must have drunk a bottle by himself.'

'Aberforth Dumbledore I am going to spank you to within an inch of your life!' Archaeon yelled. He launched forward as if to grab his eldest son.

'We've been away from home too long,' Aberforth cried as he made for the door. 'We've already forgotten that he hears everything we say, wherever we are in the house!'

A game of cat and mouse began between Aberforth and Archaeon. It was ended by Lubo, who silenced them with a commanding shriek and told her husband in no uncertain terms that it was Christmas, they had a guest in the house and he was to behave himself. Abashed, Archaeon Dumbledore instructed the boys to open their presents.

Mars got to his presents first. Albus had given him a container of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, which were his favourite sweet. He opened a large, lumpy package that his parents had sent to the Dumbledore's, uttering a sigh of disgust when a new robe fell out.

'Clothes again,' Mars groaned. 'I get them every year.'

To his surprise, he discoveredthat he had got apresent from Albus' parents. He opened it to find that they had given him a book; _Charm Your Peers._

'Thought it might prove useful, young man,' Archaeon said. 'Your charming abilities should pick up in no time with help from that book.'

'Thank you ever so much, Mr and Mrs Dumbledore!' cried Mars. He looked beside himself, his green eyes dancing. Albus guessed that Mars had never got more than one present for Christmas, and never anything other than a new set of robes.

Albus took his turn to open his gifts. A Wand Care Kit fell out of a parcel that Mars had given him. Albus turned it over in his hands, blue eyes sparkling at the thought of giving his handsome twelve and a half inch willow wand a decent clean.

'It's not really just from me,' Mars said shyly. 'It's partly from the rest of the Pirates too.'

'Thank you Mars, this is brilliant,' Albus said, stowing his gift away so that it would not get lost in the towering piles of wrapping paper now covering the floor. He turned to his second present which was from his parents. It was a large leather book with the title engraved on the cover in gold lettering. Albus was the new owner of _A Better Way to Transfigure._

'I thought that with willow being such a good wand for transfiguration,' Archaeon explained, eyeing his son with pride, 'that this book would serve you well. I hear from your teachers that you are doing very well, but Professor Bones thinks that you could do more in transfiguration.'

Albus pondered this for a moment. He had not really been that interested in transfiguration, not after the first lesson where his Bertie Botts bean had tasted like earwax. True, he had transfigured his robe sleeve to look like an arm to deceive Noxious Black, but other than that his transfiguration had been ordinary.

'Thank you mother and father,' Albus said at last, 'this will help me a great deal.'

Albus' last present was from Aberforth and came in a box. Strange, muffled sounds were coming from the box. There seemed to be something inside it. Albus hesitated for a moment before opening the present. Had Aberforth done the unthinkable and jinxed Peeves or something worse into the box? He waited until his parents had left the room before opening it.

It turned out to be something worse. Albus opened the box and out bounded a Niffler. It made straight for Archaeon Dumbledore's cabinet of treasures in the corner, and within moments, golden trinkets and shiny miniature replicas of sarcophaguses and sphinxes were being carted off by the zealously excited Niffler. It was so overwhelmed by the sight of so many golden treasures that it decided to hoard them all somewhere else in the house. By the time Archaeon Dumbledore had returned from delivering a Christmas gift to the Jones' family, his entire cabinet had been emptied. Aberforth had disappeared, understandably afraid of the forthcoming retribution.

'Albus, Mars,' Archaeon said dangerously, 'find that Niffler, get rid of it and then return my treasures to this cabinet.' Archaeon marched over to where Fawkes was preening himself on the table. He grabbed the phoenix by the tail and said, 'Wherever Aberforth is hiding.'

Mars and Albus laughed their heads off while they dealt with the Niffler, who had exhausted itself. They could hear Aberforth yelling and going on while Archaeon presumably whacked him on the backside or hexed him for being such a troublemaking piece of work. Archaeon was only being half serious, and in all, everyone was back to grinning and laughing by the time Christmas lunch was served in the dining hall. It had been a highly eventful and memorable Christmas morning.

Once the boys' bellies were full of roast mutton and sweetmeats and every kind of Christmas pudding Nibs had been able to make, they just wanted to sink into a doze by the warm and sleep-inducing fireplace. Indeed, that is what Aberforth did, but his snores were loud enough to keep the whole household awake. Albus and Mars sat in front of the fire, struggling to keep their eyes open. That was when Fawkes appeared in front of Albus, his tail facing towards the boys. The phoenix turned his proud head and his eyes met Albus', communicating where he wanted to take them.

'Mars, Fawkes has a present for us,' Albus said, his blue eyes now wide awake and glowing with excitement. 'He wants to take us to Egypt!'

Mars and Albus reached out together and took hold of Fawkes' tail.

The two boys reappeared in a flash of flame. At first it was too dark to see where they were, but once their eyes became accustomed to the dark, Albus realised that he had been here before. They were standing on the platform at the bottom of the steps that burrowed into the sandy dunes of the Egyptian desert. The last time Albus had been here, there had been a crumbling archway to the left and a shiny golden archway in front of them.

'Lumos,' Albus muttered. The tip of his wand lit up, and sure enough, the golden archway that led to the fabled city of Heliopolis stood straight ahead. The crumbling archway that had stood to the left was no longer there anymore. Albus said, 'My father did say that his team of Archaeowizards were going to take that archway to the Ministry of Magic.'

'What archway?' Mars said, 'the golden one? Where are we?'

Albus told Mars the story of his adventure in Egypt before the start of the school year, when Archaeon had taken him down to this place, and then through the golden archway to the city of Heliopolis. He also told Mars about the cracked and ancient archway that seemed to have been singing to him, but had now been removed.

'I wonder where that archway took you if you went through it,' Mars said.

'Probably somewhere not very good,' Albus said. 'Now, do you want me to show you where I found Fawkes? Heliopolis is the most amazing city you can imagine.'

Mars was just about to agree when he noticed that Fawkes was behaving strangely again. He pointed at the phoenix. Albus turned to find that Fawkes was retreating into the dark shadows to the right of the platform. Curious, he and Mars followed. Albus kept his wand out in front of him. To his surprise he discovered that there was a third archway on the platform. He had not noticed it last time, because it had been hidden in shadows when he had been there with Archaeon and Aberforth.

'Where do you suppose this archway takes us?' Mars wondered out loud.

'Well, why don't we find out?' Albus said. 'Fawkes would not lead us into any kind of danger now, would you Fawkes?'

The phoenix had already fluttered through the dark gateway and disappeared. Albus hesitated before entering it. This third portal had strange carvings on the grey stones that formed the archway. Its mouth was completely dark, neither letting in nor letting out light. But Albus and Mars had not been sorted into Gryffindor for nothing. They both took a deep breath and followed Fawkes into the Gateway of Shadows.

Mars and Albus found themselves standing in the shadow of a very tall, ominous statue. It was clearly an Egyptian, judging by the ornate painting and patterns on the statue. But this particular Egyptian statue had narrowed, angry eyes and a thin, leering mouth, which was different from the usual, friendlier faces on sarcophagi. The drawings at the feet of the statue were of snakes, not cats; and the staff in the statues hand curled into a cobra at its end.

'This looks like a dark Egyptian wizard,' Mars said. Albus reckoned he was quite correct. Mars added, 'do you reckon we should go back?'

'No, we will be fine,' Albus said. 'There was nothing living in Heliopolis when I went there, so I do not think there will be anything living here.'

'You found Fawkes,' Mars said, his voice shaking.

'That was different,' Albus said. 'Fawkes is a phoenix, he lives forever. There were no wizards or witches alive in Heliopolis and there should not be any here. These places have not been lived in since the time of the Pharaohs.'

Mars had to admit, Albus knew a lot more about history than he did. So he accepted what Albus was saying and followed his friend.

Albus picked up two flaming torches from the wall and handed one to Mars. They walked around the base of the statue and found themselves in a dark and narrow tunnel. Their feet made dull thuds as they walked along the ancient path. To the left and the right of them loomed mummies in their sarcophagi. Cobwebs and centuries of dust covered them all.

'Aren't these places cursed to stop intruders from coming in?' Mars said nervously. 'Have you seen Fawkes lately?'

'Calm down a tad, Mars,' Albus said. 'Look, there is a door to the right.'

Albus led a shivering Mars into a small side room. It was a square crypt carved into the rock. The room was lined with objects, a lot like the altar room in the Temple of Ra. The only difference was that the contents of this crypt were clearly designed for use in the dark arts. This room contained vials of strangely coloured liquids, mainly purple, black and grey. There were mummified asps (poisonous snakes) and scarabs (Egyptian beetles). Mars and Albus quickly left the room. They found three more crypts along the tunnel. All of them contained similar dark materials. There were staffs emblazoned with fiery red rubies and ending in cobra heads, black vases and containers, and more vials, scarabs and asps. The fourth crypt was perhaps the most frightening. It appeared to be a room for the process of mummification. A skeleton lay on a slab of rock in the middle of the room, with metal instruments sticking out of the hole in his skull where his nose used to be. Mars had to control the urge to vomit.

'They must have been busy taking out his brain when this place was abandoned,' Albus commented. He led Mars back into the corridor.

'I hate this place,' Mars said. 'It gives me the creeps.'

'Just one more room,' Albus said, pointing down the corridor. The dark tunnel led to another entrance up ahead. The boys went through the door and found themselves in a fifth crypt, far larger and certainly more spectacular than the rest.

This final crypt was a huge, round room with a single shaft of sunlight falling from thousands of metres up above to rest on a gleaming golden sarcophagus that was resting on top of a towering plinth of rock. Albus noticed that the sarcophagus had the same markings, snakes and cobra staff as the statue at the entrance to this whole place.

'Mars, it is the same person as the statue back there,' Albus said. Mars agreed with him, and then the two boys gazed at the walls of the circular room. They were covered with hieroglyphics. The ancient Egyptian writing composed of pictures that told stories was not as eye-pleasing as it normally was. These hieroglyphics were the writings of a dark wizard. The people were angry and had red eyes. Dog-headed men and crocodiles ate babies in the pictures. Slaves were building pyramids. An eye was gleaming out of the triangle at the top of a pyramid.

'Albus; look over here!' cried Mars, in a panicked voice. Albus ran around the plinth in the centre of the room and found Mars staring at the wall. There, bright red streams of blood poured down the wall from pictures of dead people. The blood was not real; it had been painted to look so. But it was a chilling sight nonetheless.

'Why did Fawkes bring us here?' Albus said, a little bit angry with his phoenix. He was about to lead Mars out of the crypt when he caught sight of the crimson and gold bird flapping its wings to catch his attention. Albus and Mars looked up at Fawkes, who was fluttering around the golden sarcophagus that basked in the single beam of sunlight from high above them. There were hieroglyphics carved underneath the sarcophagus. Albus' eyes met Fawkes'. When he lost eye contact with the phoenix, the words had been translated for him. He turned to Mars.

'Bear witness to the tomb of Imhotep, greatest wizard of all time, who shall lie dormant under the watchful rays of Ra, the Sun-God, until he is returned to life by one of lesser power and greater greed.' Albus said.

'You can read that?' Mars cried.

'No, Fawkes can,' Albus said. 'But if this Imhotep could come back to life then we had better get out of here. I do not want to be present for the re-birthing of the greatest dark wizard ever!'

Mars did not need any encouragement after that. He sprinted out of the crypt, down the dark tunnel and around the statue, desperate to get back through the Gateway of Shadows. Albus and Fawkes followed. In moments they were on the platform, panting, bent over and gasping for air.

'Would you like to take a look at Heliopolis?' Albus asked.

'Another time,' Mars said, his green eyes burning with fear. 'I want to get as far away from Im – ho – tep as possible. Fawkes, please take us home!'

The boys grabbed hold of Fawkes' tail feathers and the faithful bird whisked them back to the Dumbledore residence.

* * *

The remainder of the Christmas break passed without further incident, because both Mars and Albus were reluctant to go anywhere with Fawkes. Albus was quite irritated with Fawkes, and could not understand why he had wanted to show them the resting place of a dark and evil wizard. Besides, he had much more important business on his hands; like trying (and failing) again and again to beat Mars at wizard's chess.

Finally the night before their return to Hogwarts arrived. Albus was suddenly reminded that he was going back to a place that housed the only four people in the world that he did not like: Professors Fudge and Black, Caretaker Umbridge and his enemy from Slytherin, Noxious. He was also reminded of the mystery that remained unsolved. What did Professors Black and Fudge want with him? What was this mysterious thing that Professor Longbottom had fetched for them that was so important to their plans, and that had made the centaurs so angry? Albus' head started to hurt again when he thought about it.

Albus considered going to Archaeon for help and advice, but then decided against it. The implications of admitting that he had been eavesdropping on the Headmaster were too much to contemplate. Who would believe the word of an eleven year old against the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the Housemaster of Slytherin? They would probably come up with some lie to cover things up, and then Albus would have Fawkes taken away from him for using the phoenix to spy on people.

No, Albus realised, this was something that he and the Pirates (but probably mainly he), would have to solve. He was not alone in this, not by a long shot. As well as the Pirates he had Fawkes, who would hopefully have an Everlasting Oak to reside in by the Spring (Albus was enchanting it with a rapid growing spell). He also had Peeves as a menace to distract his four enemies. Professor Prewett could also be relied upon. Albus realised that he might need a little more help, however. He decided to wrack his brains and to think about whom else at Hogwarts might be able to help him to thwart Professor Black's nefarious schemes.

Needless to say, when Archaeon and Lubo Dumbledore dropped Albus, Aberforth and Mars off at Platform 9¾ for the train ride back to Hogwarts; Albus knew that this was going to be a mightily eventful term.

* * *

Author's Note: Once again, to all my reviewers: you are the best! This story has been added to another c2 community, "shadow's anime and books community", be sure to check it out.

My thanks to SammyStar, War of the Worlds, skittlelove, dd9736, Celi, LordTHANOS, BovinePimp, Adrianna Ashke and mekareQ for your reviews. Keep on telling me what you would like to see happen in the story, and what improvements I can make. I do not always use your advice, and my ideas are always from my own imagination, but some of you have helped me to direct those ideas in certain ways. Glad that so many people seem to love this story; I sure love writing it.

I expect that I will update again by July 15, but please be aware that Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince comes out on July 16. I will be reading that book on the weekend and probably a few times more after that. So do not expect many updates in the next couple of weeks! I expect you'll all be reading Harry Potter 6 yourselves and won't want to read my fan fiction for a while, anyway!


	12. The Eyes and Ears of Hogwarts

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"A great mind does not know the answers. A great mind asks the questions."

* * *

Chapter 12 – The Eyes and Ears of Hogwarts

Two things kept Albus occupied upon his return to Hogwarts for the new term. There was his preoccupation with the mystery of Professors Black and Fudge's plans to use him for something and the strange item that Professor Longbottom had fetched for them out of the Forbidden Forest. The more Albus thought about it, the fewer ideas he seemed to have for finding out what it was. Short of going into the Forbidden Forest and asking the centaurs what Professor Longbottom had taken (an option Albus really did not want to have to use), Albus had no answers. He could not exactly walk up to Professor Longbottom and ask, 'excuse me, Professor, but what _did_ you take from the Forbidden Forest that made the centaurs trample your Ever-flowering Frangipanis?' The Pirates were not much help either. None of them had any ideas, and Albus secretly thought to himself that none of them were particularly worried about it, either.

When he was not mulling this infuriating problem over in his head, Albus was kept fairly busy by his teachers. Exams were still months away, but the teachers used them as an excuse to pile on the homework. Albus had reason to work hard, too. The fact that Archaeon had spoken to his teachers made him nervous. If there was one person Albus wanted to impress, it was his father. He took Archaeon's little hint (giving him _A Better Way to Transfigure_ for Christmas) seriously, and started working much harder in Professor Leon Bones' Transfiguration class.

Now that he was motivated to learn in Transfiguration, Albus realised that this was a seriously cool branch of magic. The class had moved on from transfiguring cotton wool into beans and porcupine quills into feather writing quills, and were learning how to turn mice into teacups. At that moment, Jenning Ranger from Ravenclaw was the best in the class. He demonstrated this during a Transfiguration lesson in the second week after the Christmas holidays.

'Today I want a volunteer to demonstrate small animal to inanimate object transfiguration,' Professor Bones said at the beginning of the lesson. 'Do I have any volunteers, or shall I pick one?'

Several Ravenclaw hands shot into the air. Jenning Ranger's reached the highest. Albus noticed that he was smirking, as usual.

'Ah, Mr Ranger,' Professor Bones said. The square-faced teacher with his mane of golden hair pointed at Jenning, whose smirk grew even wider.

The Professor placed a hapless mouse on the desk in front of Jenning. He cleared his throat, twiddled his fingers until they were holding his wand correctly, and prepared to cast the spell.

'Veravertum,' he said daintily. His mouse transformed into a lovely china teacup with blue flowers around the rim. Jenning's smirk could hardly have got any wider, without tearing his face in two. Albus felt hot under the collar. He had already tired of being second to Mars at wizard's chess, and here was this prat from Ravenclaw outdoing him in Transfiguration. It was he, Albus Dumbledore, who had a willow wand with a powerful unicorn hair and phoenix feather core!

Professor Bones picked up Jenning's teacup. Albus expected the Professor to award Ravenclaw twenty points, but no such thing happened.

'Not a bad effort,' Professor Bones said. 'It looks good, but it continues to wriggle and I can feel a heart beat underneath the handle. Let me demonstrate Jenning's failure to correctly transfigure this mouse.'

Professor Bones placed the teacup down on the floor. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws leaned over the front of their desks the better to see. To their surprise Professor Bones transformed into a lion. He gave a tremulous roar and then swatted the teacup with his giant paw. It shattered into dozens of pieces.

A groan of disgust from the boys and shrieks from the girls told the story. Mouse intestines were strewn all over the floor, and a beating heart rolled underneath Jenning's desk and stopped at his feet. He gave a girlish wail and climbed on to his chair, flapping his hands as if he was a flightless bird trying to take off. The Gryffindor boys laughed hysterically at the sight of Jenning being scared witless by a mouse heart.

'That is so cruel!' Albus heard Victoria saying, 'that poor little mouse.'

Professor Bones transfigured back into his human form. He vanished the remains of the teacup/mouse with his wand, and then turned a severe eye to Jenning.

'Get off your seat, you stupid boy,' he growled. 'It was only the insides of a mouse, for heaven's sake. Now, as you saw, Ranger might have transfigured the outside of the mouse to look like a teacup, but he far from transfigured the inside. I told you when we started this subject that transfiguration requires intelligence, bookwork and a terrible level of skill. Please bring out your parchments and take notes as I speak.'

Professor Bones spent the remainder of the lesson describing the ornate workings of the spell that transfigured small animals into inanimate objects. He gave them a challenging homework assignment.

'When this class next meets, I will be randomly selecting one of you to perform this spell on your mouse,' Professor Bones said. 'I expect to find that there are no beating hearts or pulsing intestines inside the teacup when I break it.'

Albus hardly needed this additional motivation to bury his nose in _A Better Way to Transfigure_ that night in the Gryffindor common room. As usual, he had finished his other homework early, and as usual, some of the Pirates were copying from it. Albus turned to the index and searched for a chapter that could help him. He found; _Chapter 7 – The transfiguration of inanimatus to animalus minorii and vice versa._

Mouthing silently, as he always did when reading; Albus started to read the first lines of chapter seven.

'_The art of transfiguring animalus minorii into inanimatus has conventionally been taught thus: the student transfigures a small animal into an inanimate object using the Veravertum spell. This is an adequate means of teaching, but this author prefers an alternative method. Should the student first learn how to transfigure inanimatus into animalus minorii, then the reverse spell becomes far simpler…'_

Albus paused, marvelling at the book his parents had given him for Christmas. _A Better Way to Transfigure_ wanted him to learn how to turn a teacup into a mouse first, because that would make it easier to transfigure a mouse back into a teacup. He remembered Professor Bones saying that transfiguring objects into animals was very difficult and probably beyond first or second year students. Albus smiled. He had done fourth year magic before. Shifting his position in the couch so that he was more comfortable, Albus started to learn the Inimago Inimatus spell.

Three days later, when the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws next had Transfiguration, Albus was quietly hopeful that he would be picked to perform the spell in class. He had got so good at transfiguring teacups into mice and back into teacups that he had even been able to spend the night before teaching the Pirates how to do it.

'Good morning, Ravenclaws and Gryffindors,' Professor Bones said, striding into the class with his golden hair floating along behind him. 'I hope you have all learned how to transfigure your mice into teacups. Let me see, who can I pick on?'

Albus' blue eyes must have been the most enthusiastic in the class, because Professor Bones closed in on him, a mouse in his hand.

'Mr Dumbledore,' Professor Bones said, placing the mouse on his table. 'Let us see what you are capable of.'

Albus took a deep breath, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. He levelled his wand at the mouse and cast the spell.

In place of the mouse was a beautiful purple teacup with yellow stars around the rim. Albus had learned how to choose the design of his teacup from _A Better Way to Transfigure._ Albus did not smile. He knew what had to come next.

Professor Bones put the teacup on the floor, transfigured into a lion and then smashed the cup with his paw.

Once again, the girls in the class were shrieking in disgust, and Jenning Ranger was back on his chair, trying to get away from the mouse brain that had plopped on the floor beside his feet.

Professor Bones reappeared, and he vanished the cup, a look of disappointment on his face. Albus' face was bright red, but his determination to impress was only increased.

'Professor, I know I can do the spell,' Albus said urgently. 'I did it five times last night, and none of them had insides when I had finished the spell.'

'I do not normally give second chances,' Professor Bone said, frowning at him, 'but if you insist. If you fail again, however, I reserve the right to take twenty points from Gryffindor.'

William drew in a breath next to Albus, but Albus was willing to risk losing points from Gryffindor. Ranger was sitting down again, his fear evaporated, and a smirk back on his face. He could see how pleased the Ravenclaws were that he had failed. This really rankled with Albus, and he wanted to wipe that smirk off Ranger's face.

Professor Bones put another mouse on Albus' desk.

'Professor, could I please have a teacup instead?' Albus asked.

'What do you need that for?' Professor Bones said; a trace of irritation in his voice. Albus kept his gaze steady. 'Very well then, but for your time wasting, Gryffindor will lose thirty points if you do not get this right.'

Albus was unruffled. Once Professor Bones had placed a teacup on his desk, next to the mouse, he felt his confidence returning. _A Better Way to Transfigure_ had taught him how to transfigure a teacup into a mouse first. He knew that he could do this. Taking a deep breath, and steadying his wand, Albus prepared to work his magic.

'Inimago Inimatus,' Albus said, performing an illustrious swirl of his willow wand over the teacup. A gasp went up from the Ravenclaws, and from Professor Bones, as the teacup turned into a very fat white mouse. It started sniffing the other mouse, squeaking loudly to reassure everyone that it was, in fact, a real live mouse and not a porcelain one. Albus was not finished.

'Veravertum,' he said, charming the new mouse. He immediately turned his wand to Professor Bones' mouse and said, 'Veravertum.'

Two gleaming purple teacups with a ring of yellow stars under the rim sat on his desk, complete and unmoving. Professor Bones was smiling at Albus as he set the two teacups on the floor, ready to perform his test. Even though Jenning Ranger was no longer smirking, Albus noticed that he had his hands poised to lift himself back onto his chair. Clearly, Ranger did not trust Albus' magic enough and was afraid that another brain or heart might be coming his way.

Professor Bones transfigured into a lion and slammed his paws on the cups. Both shattered into thousands of pieces of porcelain. There were no intestines, brains or hearts to be seen. Albus had performed the perfect transfiguration of inimatus into animalus minorii and back.

'Thirty points _to_ Gryffindor,' Professor Bones said; now returned to his human form. 'That was excellent, Dumbledore.' He turned his wand to the floor and uttered, 'Reparo.' The pieces flew back into place and Professor Bones picked up the two purple teacups. 'I keep a collection of the best teacups my students have ever transfigured from mice. Do you mind if I add these two beauties to my set?'

'Yes, sure, Professor,' Albus said, grinning. He tried to memorise the sight of Jenning Ranger's face without a smirk on it. It was worth remembering.

* * *

Having asserted himself as the best student in every subject, Albus went back to worrying about Professors Black and Fudge. His main concern was trying to work out how to discover what Professor Longbottom had taken from the centaurs. That was the only clue he had; and as he reasoned, if he could find out what she had fetched for Professor Black, then he might be able to research it and start to understand what they might be planning.

Albus was so short on ideas that, as he walked up to Gryffindor tower from classes on the third Friday afternoon following the holidays, he resolved to get Fawkes to take him to see the centaurs. He knew that centaurs did not like helping humans, but if they got nasty with him, then at least he could grab Fawkes' tail and get out of there.

That was when Albus noticed two of the portraits chatting to each other.

'As I was saying, old chap,' said a grizzled old wizard with a pointed hat, 'Professor Trelawney thinks that people born with the Moon in the Third House are going to meet a terrible end.'

'She said that, did she?' said the neighbouring portrait, a wizard with sagging cheeks and tired red eyes.

'Yes,' said the first portrait. 'I was up in the North Tower visiting my old friend Sir Cadogan. She was teaching her sixth years. I heard it from the horse's mouth, to use an old expression.'

'From the horse's mouth,' the second portrait spluttered, breaking down with laughter. 'Tee hee, you could never use a better expression when referring to that old fruit bat!'

Albus burst out laughing himself. Professor Trelawney certainly looked like a horse.

'Oi, you!' cried the first portrait. 'What are you doing, eavesdropping on us?'

'Oh no, I beg your pardon sir,' Albus said, bowing politely. 'I never meant to eavesdrop. I could not help but overhear your reference to Professor Trelawney.'

'See, old chap, even the students think she looks like a horse,' said the second portrait gleefully.

'Excuse me for asking,' Albus said, 'but are you portraits really able to travel around the castle and overhear things?'

'We certainly can,' said the grizzled first portrait.

'I know I must be asking a lot,' Albus continued, 'but could I possibly ask you to ask around all your friends for me? There is something I need to know, something that three people would have been talking about several weeks ago.'

'What is in it for us?' drawled the second portrait. 'We get requests like that all the time, but there is a Portrait Code of Honour to maintain. We do not act as spies.'

Albus bit his lip. He was in a bit of a pickle alright. He looked around, searching for inspiration. That was when he saw that several of the portraits had their frames cracked, and some of them were torn.

'Doesn't Caretaker Umbridge look after you very well?' Albus asked.

'No, he does not,' the first portrait said. 'But it is largely the fault of that poltergeist that we are in such a state.'

'What, you mean, Peeves?' Albus said.

'We do not speak his name!' cried the second portrait.

'Oh,' Albus said. 'My father always said that fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself. Anyway, what if I promised to ban Peeves from ever damaging any portraits in this castle again, and then got my friends to help me fix all of you? Would you help me then? I need to know what Professor Longbottom fetched for Professor Black that made the centaurs so angry.'

The two portraits cast furtive looks at each other. Albus saw that all the other portraits on the wall had been listening in, and their faces were filled with interest. After what seemed like ten minutes, the first portrait spoke at last.

'Give us a week to think about it,' the grizzled painting said. 'If you can keep Peeves off our frames and we all start to look a little better for it, then we will consider helping you.'

Albus hurried away to find Peeves. He knew where to find the poltergeist, because that morning William had ordered the poltergeist to flood the girl's toilets on the second floor. Albus thought that William was doing this to impress a girl, but thought it strange because he did not know of any girl in the world who would be impressed by a flooded toilet.

'Peeves, cut it out!' Albus cried when he arrived in the bathroom. The poltergeist was diving in and out of the toilet bowls, sending great splashes of water onto the floor.

'Oh, didn't see you there, your Headmastership, sir,' he said, bowing obsequiously.

'Peeves, I have two things to tell you,' Albus said. 'One will not make you very happy, but the second will. I hope that they will balance out and keep you in good spirits. First of all, you are no longer permitted to damage the portraits on the walls in any way. That includes throwing things at them.'

Peeves looked crestfallen for an instant, then angry. He had been enjoying almost unlimited freedom at Hogwarts, and here this eleven year old was playing spoilsport.

'The second thing,' Albus said, eyeing the poltergeist warily; 'is that I am giving you permission to harass the Ravenclaws as much as the Slytherins. If you could do me the small favour of pelting Jenning Ranger with dead mice from the Owlery, then I would be grateful.'

Peeves' face lit up into an evil smile.

'Why certainly, your Headmastership sir,' he said. 'No more will I bother the portraits, but the Ravenclaws will get to know me very well.'

The poltergeist swooped out, cackling. Albus felt a little guilty about letting the poltergeist bother the Ravenclaws. They were not a bad bunch; but he'd had to do what needed to be done. The portraits were safe; now he needed to find the Pirates. They had a job to do.

The Pirates were not particularly pleased at being recruited to repair the portraits.

'This is Umbridge's job,' William complained. The ten Gryffindor first years were sitting in their corner of the common room. 'If we fix the portraits, then he will just take credit for it.'

'I do not want Caretaker Umbridge to get credit for anything we do,' Alabastor said.

'Besides, why are we even talking about this?' Emily said sternly. 'Albus, I know you get your homework done really easily, but it takes the rest of us a lot longer. We do not have time to waste fixing portraits.'

'I agree,' Victoria said, not meeting Albus' eyes when she said it.

'Look, you do not have to help me with this,' Albus said, 'but just think about it for a minute. We have another six and a half years left at Hogwarts. That is a long time, and we will fit in a lot of Pirates' pranks into that period. But imagine what we can accomplish if we have the portraits of Hogwarts on our side? If we fix them up – and I have already got Peeves to leave them alone – then we will have the most amazing allies for the next six years! The portraits know everything! They hear everything that goes on in here and they talk about it to each other!'

After Albus' speech, most of the Pirates seemed to change their minds. William, as usual, was overly excited by the idea. He kept running his hand through his hair, chattering away about the possibilities.

'Just think,' William said, 'we could be out of bed after hours and the portraits could tell us if someone was coming, and which way to go!'

'See,' Albus said, 'just one example of what possibilities are in store for us. But remember, building allies requires investment. We have to scratch their backs for them to scratch ours.'

And so it was that the Pirates spent the whole weekend marching up and down the corridors of Hogwarts fixing the portraits. Fawkes came with them, acting as a warning signal. He would appear in a flash of flame every time someone was coming. That way the Pirates could put their wands away and pretend that they were just on their way to Gryffindor tower.

The portraits seemed to be getting impressed already. One gaggle of witches around a pot in one of the pictures showered Victoria, Maggie and Elizabeth with compliments after they had successfully repaired their old black frame.

'Why thank ye, dearies,' rasped one witch.

'What lovely young witches,' another said. 'And pretty too; if only I looked like that again!'

'Nay, Mabel, ye never had that kind of beauty,' said the third witch. 'Say, sweets, you couldn't perhaps fix my other portrait down in the dungeons?'

'We're going to the dungeons later,' Victoria said. 'We will fix it then.'

'Bless ye, bless ye,' rasped the first witch again.

Albus noticed that the three girls looked decidedly pink in the cheeks after that. He smiled to himself. All of the Gryffindor Pirates were making friends with the portraits, and that was exactly what he wanted. An alliance between the Pirates and the portraits of Hogwarts would be a powerful one. He just could not believe that he had not thought of it before now.

One week after Albus had made his proposal to the two old portraits on the stairwell nearby Gryffindor tower, the Pirates had managed to fix almost every portrait in Hogwarts. While this had the unfortunate side effect of making Umbridge walk around looking like he was the hardest working caretaker alive, Albus did not care. He had quietly decided that if the portraits collectively chose not to help him, then he would just set Peeves on them. They did not know that he, a first year, really had control over the poltergeist. So, Albus returned to the portraits that he had first spoken to, full of confidence.

'Good afternoon, gentlemen,' Albus said. 'Are you enjoying your newly repaired frames and the absence of Peeves?'

'Why yes we are,' exclaimed the first portrait.

'Indeed,' said the second, 'and I have taken to saying his name. Listen: Peeves. See, I said it! It is not at all frightening. Peeves, Peeves, Peeves! Tee hee!'

'Have you come to a decision on whether or not to help me?' Albus asked.

'We have,' said the grizzled first portrait. 'We all agreed that you are a fine young wizard for sticking to your promises. I went in search of the information that you asked for. Phyllis, who lives in the Headmaster's office, was the only one in his office willing to let me in on the sordid details of what goes on in there. The portraits in the Headmaster's office are bound to serve him, you see, but every so often one of them breaks ranks. Phyllis has never liked Professor Black.'

Albus was champing at the bit to know what Professor Longbottom had fetched for Professor Black. The sleepy second portrait seemed to notice how impatient he was.

'Oh hurry up, old chap,' the second portrait said to the first. 'Have you forgotten that this one is eleven years old? He does not have time immemorial to sit and listen to a centuries old portrait like you blathering on!'

'Professor Longbottom acquired a root from the Undying Yew Tree in the Forbidden Forest,' the first portrait said. 'That is what made the centaurs so angry.'

'A root from the Undying Yew,' Albus said, frowning. 'Thank you so very much!'

'It was a pleasure doing business with you!' the first portrait called out after Albus, but he had already sprinted off towards the library.

Five hours later Albus had paged through hundreds of books from the library and was near despair, having been unable to find anything on the Undying Yew. It was only the fortuitous arrival of Fawkes that saved him from insanity. The phoenix took Albus to a part of the Restricted Section that was too dark for the librarian to see that he was in there. Fawkes used his beak to point out a book, which Albus quickly dusted off and opened. It was called _The Darkest Properties of the Darkest Plants._

There was only a tiny section devoted to the Undying Yew, and an even smaller sub-section on the roots of the Undying Yew. Albus' heart pounded as he read it.

_The magic imbedded within the roots of the Undying Yew is among the most powerful in the world. It is so powerful, that even a single crushing of the root can create a draught so toxic that the fumes can kill a human being. As such, few have ever experimented with root of Undying Yew. However, it is believed that the root of the Undying Yew contains the magic responsible for the tree's immortality. It has often been speculated that, if a wizard could master the secret of the Undying Yew root, then said wizard could compose themselves a Draught of Immortality or Revitalisation._

Albus did not need to read the paragraph again. Professor Black was after immortality. If he succeeded in achieving it, then he could certainly appoint Professor Fudge as Headmaster of Hogwarts. Because, after all, nobody would be able to stop him, would they? But what Albus still could not understand was: what did he have to do with it? Professor Black had said, 'All we need now is Dumbledore'. Was the blood of an eleven year old wizard part of the Draught of Immortality?

Far from alleviating his concerns, the discovery of what Professor Longbottom had fetched from the Forbidden Forest had added a dozen other questions to Albus' head. He had never been more worried in his life.

* * *

Author's Note: I continue to be grateful to my reviewers: Adrianna Ashke, BovinePimp, War of the Worlds, skittlelove, linwen21490, dd9736, Celi, SammyStar, mekareQ and the Allknowing Tonks. You all rock!

This will be my likely last update until after the release of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, which I would like to read a few times before I get back to writing. I have some brilliant events in store for our little hero...


	13. The Flight of the Feather

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"If I could fly like a bird, then I'd be free"

* * *

Chapter 13 – The Flight of the Feather

The only thing that gave Albus peace of mind enough to sleep over the weeks that followed was the fact that Professor Black had not yet taken over the wizarding world and appointed Professor Fudge as Headmaster of Hogwarts. At the very least it meant that the evil Headmaster had not yet discovered how to create a Draught of Immortality from the root of Undying Yew currently in his possession. Even so, Albus walked around the school with half a mind to keep looking over his shoulder. Professor Black needed him for some reason, and he did not know when the Headmaster was going to act against him.

Unfortunately for Albus, support was not forthcoming from the Pirates. They and the rest of the school were preoccupied with the next round of Quidditch matches. Slytherin were to play Ravenclaw first up, and the Saturday after would see Gryffindor play against the hopeless Hufflepuffs. The House Championship was as close as it had ever been. Slytherin had regained the lead thanks to the generosity of Professor Fudge, but were only fifty points ahead of Gryffindor, who were only ten points ahead of Ravenclaw. As such three houses were barracking for a Ravenclaw win over Slytherin and even the Hufflepuffs did not seem that interested in beating Gryffindor. It was a sign of how badly everyone else wanted to see Slytherin lose the House Championship at the end of the year.

Albus was not in the slightest bit interested in the latest round of Quidditch, even though he had been the star Seeker in Gryffindor's now famous win over Slytherin back in October. Jonathan Glastonbury had taken back his place as Seeker in the Gryffindor team, so Albus was not involved. He had other things on his mind. That is, until someone completely unexpected confronted him.

It was the end of a gruelling morning of classes Monday, the week of Ravenclaws match against Slytherin. The Gryffindors had just finished a tough lesson of Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws. Professor Bones had been grilling them on turning pigeons into tea cosies, and Albus' head hurt. He knew he would be spending all night reading _A Better Way to Transfigure_.

Just as Albus trudged out the classroom into the corridor with the other Gryffindor first years, he felt something brush against his leg. Next thing he knew, his bag had ripped and all his books, parchments and ink bottles were tumbling to the ground.

'Just my luck,' said Albus, clicking his tongue. He bent down to collect all his equipment. William, Mars and Alabastor started as if to help him. Albus waved them away. 'Don't worry about it. You chaps head off for lunch. I will be down in a trice.'

The Pirates shrugged their shoulders and sauntered off to lunch. Albus knew that someone had cast a spell to rip his bag open. It was a sure sign that someone wanted to talk to him alone. But he never expected to stand up from picking up his school gear and come face to face with a smirking Jenning Ranger.

'What do you want to talk to me about?' asked Albus, mildly irritated. He turned his wand to his bag, muttered 'Reparo' and shoved his belongings into the bag.

'I know that you ordered Peeves to annoy Ravenclaw and to throw dead mice at me,' Ranger said, thirty gleaming teeth still showing. He looked terribly proud at having unmasked Albus as the orchestrator of this mischief. Albus was wrong-footed. He did not quite know what to say or do.

'Don't be absurd,' Albus said, after pausing for a second too long. 'I am just a first year, how could I …'

'The Hufflepuffs heard you giving Peeves orders in your Charms class before Christmas,' Ranger said, eyeing Albus with a strangely intent look. 'Besides, I know how good you are at magic. I would not put it past you to be able to order a poltergeist around.'

Albus did not know whether to be flattered by the compliment or afraid that Ranger was about to run to Professor Fudge or someone and turn him in.

'So what if I can boss Peeves around?' asked Albus. 'If you are going to be a prat and tell tales, you might as well go and do it now.'

'I would not be talking to you like this if I was going to tell on you,' Ranger said. His smirk had evaporated, and Albus could tell that he was being perfectly serious. He felt ashamed that he had accused Ranger of having other intentions. Ranger continued, 'the reason I am talking to you is because Peeves is disrupting Ravenclaw Quidditch practices. He flies around the pitch stealing the Bludgers and Quaffle, and he also pelts our Seeker with owl droppings every time she gets close to the Golden Snitch. Everyone in the school, except Slytherin of course, wants Ravenclaw to win this Saturday. But if Peeves does not leave our team alone, we are history.'

'So you want me to tell Peeves to leave Ravenclaw alone?' Albus said.

'Yes,' Ranger replied simply. 'And might I add, I would appreciate it if he stopped throwing dead mice at me. That was a really awful thing of you to do, because you know I hate dead things.'

Albus felt absolutely awful. There was an empty space inside of him that seemed to be like a vacuum, sucking all his guts into a tight knot. He could have handled Ranger getting mad at him, even throwing a few hexes at him in anger. But the way Ranger stood there, not moving a muscle or showing any emotion in his face, made Albus feel terrible to the core. He was turning into Noxious, he thought in alarm!

'Look, mate,' Albus said, hoping that his blue eyes were conveying how much he meant what he was saying, 'I have been a real prat. I am sorry that I set Peeves on you like that. I feel rotten. I will get him to leave Ravenclaw alone, but to be totally honest; I do not know how much longer he will listen to me! He really did not like it when I told him to leave the portraits alone.'

'I thought about that,' Ranger said. He produced a book from his own bag. 'Here, I managed to nick this from the Restricted Section of the library.'

Ranger planted _Dealing with Pesky Poltergeists_ in Albus' hands. Albus did not know what surprised him more: that Jenning Ranger was breaking school rules, or that Ranger was breaking rules to help him, a Gryffindor, and the one person who beat Ranger in every subject.

'This is complicated magic,' Albus said, reading the back cover. 'It might even be beyond seventh year!'

'He's your poltergeist,' Ranger said, the old smirk surfacing again. 'Besides, if anyone can do complicated magic, it's you.'

Albus studied Ranger for a minute or two. It was to become one of Albus' most famous habits, the way in which he used his eyes to examine another person. He was searching Ranger's face for any trace of deception, but found none. Ranger genuinely seemed to want to help him.

'Thank you for this, Jenning,' Albus said. It was the first time he had called Ranger by his first name. 'Look, you are a good sort, and we both seem to want the same thing; the downfall of Slytherin House. Shall we shake hands and agree to work for the same aim?'

Jenning looked delighted by Albus' offer. His grin almost seemed to tear his face in two, and this time it was less of a smirk and more of a smile. He looked less like a Cheshire cat than he usually did. He gratefully shook Albus' hand.

'To the same aim,' Jenning said, 'the end of Slytherin.'

It so happened, that Noxious Black and his usual gang of Slytherins, came walking along the corridor at that moment; apparently headed for lunch. Frederick Bode and Isabella Malfoy were either side of Black, as always. Noxious' dark eyes flickered from Albus to Jenning, down to their interlocked hands. They had not finished shaking.

'My, my, my,' Noxious drawled, his hand clearly fingering his wand inside the pocket of his robes. 'Albus Dumbledore, look what you are doing to wizard-kind! You are fraternising with the enemy, so to speak. Didn't you know that Ranger is a filthy mud-blood?'

Albus grabbed at his wand but it was too late. Jenning had already hit Noxious square in the face with the Allergium curse. Noxious' eyes went red and his nose started running madly. Red patches of allergic reaction started appearing all over his face, and he was immediately scratching madly at the spots. He blundered through the other Slytherins, heading for the hospital wing.

'Good hex, Jenning,' Albus said pleasantly. He turned to the Slytherins, his wand pointed at them. All nine had their wands out, but Albus was supremely unafraid. He said to them, 'would you like to take us on? There isn't one of you who have beaten Jenning in a test, and I'd like to see you _try_ to hex me before I get you.'

Some of the Slytherin first years thought about it for a second or two, but soon their wands were back in their robes. They slouched off to lunch, looking grumpy. Albus turned and patted Jenning on the back.

'Tell you what, mate, I thought you were too much of a bookworm to have fun,' Albus said.

'Yeah, I know a trick or two,' Jenning said. The pair made their way down to lunch. Albus was pleased with himself. He now had friends in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, as well as his legion of pals in Gryffindor. It was such a shame that Slytherin had Professor Fudge as a housemaster and Noxious as a student, because Albus would prefer it if he could have friends in all four houses. It all came down to Professors Black and Fudge seeing that Slytherin won the House Championship every year. That was the reason for the discord at Hogwarts.

But Albus could do something about that. He spent his Potions lesson that afternoon paging through _Dealing with Pesky Poltergeists_ while William added ingredients to his cauldron and stirred at the appropriate time so that it would look like Albus had been doing his work. Immediately following school he found Peeves and changed his orders to the poltergeist.

'Listen Peeves, you have to leave Ravenclaw alone now,' Albus said boldly. He had learned a spell which could trap a poltergeist in a bubble and was eager to use it if Peeves gave him half an excuse to do so.

'Why; ickle first year,' said the poltergeist in a falsely sweet tone, 'Peeves is starting to tire of your _rules_.'

'Orbularum spiritus,' Albus chanted. Peeves found himself floating inside a bubble in mid-air. He started yelling and cursing, but Albus merely smiled and said, 'I have only just learned that spell, so it won't last for long. But I will be practising it all week, and the next time I have to use it on you, I will be able to make it last forever.'

Peeves went silent at this threat, and eyed Albus with a trace of fear in his devilish eyes. Clearly the memory of his century stuck in a cupboard was still fresh in his wicked mind.

'Peeves, you cannot accuse me of not providing you with many liberties,' Albus said calmly. 'I have given you free roam of Hogwarts, with very few rules at all. But sometimes I have to take into account the needs of others. So you will leave Ravenclaw alone from now on, especially Jenning Ranger.'

'What_ can_ I do, then?' Peeves said miserably, looking crestfallen.

'Well, there happens to be a Slytherin by the name of Noxious Black in the hospital wing at the moment,' Albus said. 'You could throw dead mice at him if you wanted. Let us not forget the Slytherin Quidditch team. Let's just say; that Headmaster Dumbledore does not want Slytherin to have one good practice this week.'

Satisfied that Peeves had more than enough to be getting along with to be feeling resentful of him, Albus left the poltergeist to wait for the Orbularum spiritus spell to wear off. He grinned properly for the first time in days. There was still fun to be had in life, even if he had the shadow of Professor Black's plans looming over him.

Things could not have worked more to perfection had Albus wished it. The Slytherin team looked haggard and tired when the game against Ravenclaw started on Saturday morning. Their star Beaters, Ogden and Nott, were sporting black eyes and seemed to have lost their coordination. The sorry state of the Slytherin team was not all Peeves' doing. Older students from all the other houses had jinxed the Slytherins in the corridors between classes during the week. The anti-Slytherin movement was at its peak.

So it was that Ravenclaw emerged victors by three hundred and forty points to one hundred and ten, one of the largest winning margins against Slytherin in Hogwarts' history. This was according to Jenning Ranger, who proudly quoted _Hogwarts – A History­­_ to anyone who cared to listen. For once, Albus was amused instead of irritated by Jenning. That meant that Ravenclaw temporarily overtook Slytherin and Gryffindor at the top of the House Championship table, but the Gryffindors did not view this as anything to be overly concerned about. They had Hufflepuff the next weekend, and were a shoe-in for the victory.

Sure enough, a week later saw Gryffindor trounce Hufflepuff by three hundred to nil. Thomas Jones had been on fire with the Quaffle, and Alfred Shaftesbury had been unstoppable in front of the goals. Indeed, Glastonbury could easily have caught the Golden Snitch inside the first ten minutes, but had held back and waited for the Chasers to pile on a few points before clinching the victory. So Gryffindor ascended to the top of the House Championship with, for the first time in more than a decade, a commanding lead over Slytherin, who were languishing in third place.

Albus gave Aberforth permission to use Fawkes on an 'excursion' to the Hog's Head, and the Gryffindors enjoyed as merry a night as ever in their common room, celebrating what was arguably their best position at this stage of the year for the House Championship since they had last won the Cup, back in 1840. It was remarkable, Albus thought, that he was not even alive then. He had been born in 1841. So Albus, along with all the Gryffindors, hoped that the first half of 1853 would be their lucky year.

With all the fuss surrounding the Quidditch competition, Albus enjoyed a period in early February where he forgot about Professor Black's schemes. The further away that night where he had overhead the Headmaster got; the less real it seemed. In fact, it started to feel like a bad dream. On some days, Albus found it hard to convince himself that it actually _had_ been real.

He had other things to be getting on with, after all. Transfiguration had now replaced Charms and Professor Prewett's Defence against the Dark Arts tutorials as Albus' favourite subject. They were learning how to transfigure birds into tea cosies. As it had with mice and teacups, _A Better Way to Transfigure_ wanted Albus to learn how to transfigure an object into a bird first, before trying the reverse spell.

Albus had a natural fascination with birds. He loved the way they moved through the air, and could spend hours watching the owls sailing over the Hogwarts grounds through a window in Gryffindor tower. Fawkes was not exactly a bird, but his flight was equally graceful and beautiful to watch. So Albus took great care in learning how to transfigure an object into a bird. He had a secret vision of turning a bookshelf full of books into his own apocethary of owls.

_1. First you must take a feather of the bird you would like to produce by transfiguration. This feather will serve as your inanimatus._

Albus duly plucked a feather from Cleopatra, earning a peck and a hoot of disapproval in reply. His parents had sent the owl with Cough Elixir, because Aberforth was having a particularly bad cold. Albus thought it had more to do with how late Aberforth had been up last night. It was the Sunday afternoon after Gryffindor's victory in the Quidditch, and the common room was full of very sleepy, lazy bodies sprawled in front of the fireplace and on the couches. Albus had _A Better Way to Transfigure_ open in his corner, and was about to teach himself how to transfigure a feather into a bird.

_2. Fix the image of the feather in your head and close your eyes. Spend at least a minute with the image of the feather firmly ingrained in your mind._

Albus stared at the spotted white and grey feather, and then closed his eyes tightly. All he could see in his head was darkness and the image of the feather floating in the blackness. He had to open his eyes again to read the third instruction.

_3. Now study the following diagrams of the internal anatomy of Class Avis, the bird. Commit them to memory, for only a sound understanding of the nature of the beast that your transfiguration is producing will allow you to succeed._

Albus spent an hour poring over the book, committing everything to memory. From time to time he would inspect Cleopatra herself. It was easier to look at the real thing, although only the diagrams could show him what birds looked like on the inside. Interestingly, part of Albus' task was to learn the magical powers of the owl as well. As _A Better Way to Transfigure _explained, one could only transfigure a magical creature successfully if you knew what that magic was.

_4. Having learned the internal logic of Class Avis, and paying close attention to any magical qualities that bird might have, you are now ready to begin practising the correct wand movement. Study the wand movements below._

Albus gazed at the diagrams of the spell he had to perform. He held his wand in his right hand, silently moving it through the air in the correct order of movements. He had to hold his wand with his forefinger and thumb, his middle finger resting to the side of his forefinger and the other two fingers sticking daintily out. The movement involved a swish to the left, a swish to the right, a downward flick and a reverse flick with his palm facing upward. It was the most difficult spell Albus had ever tried to learn.

_5. Now, at last, you can attempt the spell on your feather. The incantation is _Avis Inimago Avis._ The vowels A must all be elongated and the stress must be on the consonants M and V. As you conduct the spell, hold the image of the bird you are trying to create in the back of your mind._

Albus held his wand above the owl feather. He looked at Cleopatra and tried to commit her to memory. Then, when he finally felt up to it, he cleared his throat.

'Avis Inimago Avis,' he said, performing the complex charm.

A silvery glow appeared around the feather. It swelled slowly, as the feather began to morph into the owl that Albus was trying to transfigure. The glow eventually dimmed, and Albus was left staring at his creation.

It could hardly be called an owl.

Its beak was sticking out of its feather-down, one eye was on its left wing, its right wing consisted of three feathers and it was missing a leg. In fact, it looked more like a ball of feathers with a few odd things badly stuck to it with spello-tape.

'What is that, Albus?' asked a girl behind him. Albus turned to find that Victoria was looking at his half-pillow half-owl with a look of quaint amusement.

'It's meant to be an owl,' Albus said, blushing. 'I tried to transfigure one of Cleopatra's feathers into an owl.'

'Oh look, it's getting away!' Victoria exclaimed. To Albus' dismay, the semi-owl had somehow managed to flit onto the window ledge.

'Come away, you silly thing,' Albus cried, but it was too late. The pseudo-owl took a valiant dive off the edge of the ledge, flapping its vague wings. Albus and Victoria ran over to the edge. A small puff of feathers indicated where it had hit the ground.

'I think its dead,' Victoria said sombrely.

'Oh well, so much for the flight of the feather,' Albus said.

'You did really well for a first try, if that was your first try,' Victoria said, fixing Albus with her engaging dark eyes. Albus noticed how her sandy hair sat casually over her cardigan, and how the cool winter air made her face pale and her cheeks rosy red. What magic was this, he wondered, that everything else seemed unimportant when he was looking at her?

'It was nothing,' Albus managed at last.

'Of course it wasn't,' said Victoria, a slightly vexed look on her face. 'Will you show me how to do that spell? We can learn together! I'd love to be able to transfigure a bird.'

Albus was not going to argue with Victoria's request. He nodded eagerly, but when he turned to fetch a couple of feathers from Cleopatra, he found that the owl had flown away so as to avoid being plucked again.

'Looks like we will have to go up to the Owlery,' Albus said. Victoria laughed and the pair of them went off for an afternoon fetching feathers and turning them into lumps of fluff and odd appendages. Albus laughed and Victoria giggled all afternoon, and by the end of the day Albus felt terribly good about the world, even if he had failed to create a bona fide owl by the end of it.

As Albus drifted off to sleep, a smile was plastered on his face. Victoria liked his company, she really did. He was glad to have her as a friend. What did it matter if Professor Black had evil plans for him? Albus had lots of friends, a gift for magic and was studying at the best school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Albus did not realise it at that time, but he was happier than he had ever been.

* * *

Author's Note – THIS NOTE CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR "HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE" SO IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE BOOK, DO NOT CONTINUE READING.

Thanks to my reviewers: BovinePimp, mekareQ, LordTHANOS, dd9736, Linwen21490, SammyStar, Adrianna Ashke and skittlelove. The same names keep popping up.

Sadly, this would probably be the happiest Albus would ever be in his life. Did you notice that there was nobody at his funeral that was particularly close to him; enough to give a eulogy. Albus died an old, lonely man whose closest companions were a phoenix, a schoolboy, a lonely housemistress witch and a lonely half-giant. That was the saddest moment in books that I have ever read.

I would like to dedicate this 13th chapter, this unlucky number, to the best character ever invented in literary fiction.

Rest In Peace, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. You were a hero to all of us and we will miss you.

Damned Severus Snape! I must confess I find it difficult to see how I can muster the will power to finish this fan fiction; but I will do my best.


	14. A Deep Kind of Magic

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"There is a magic more wonderful and more powerful than you can know"

* * *

Chapter 14 – A Deep Kind of Magic

The second week of February arrived, and with it, the worst sleet storm that Hogwarts had seen for decades, according to Professor Prewett. Anywhere you looked out of the castle windows, the sky was a temperamental black and the air was a torrid mix of grey and white. The morning post by owls came to a shuddering halt, because nothing could fly in that weather. Albus doubted whether even Fawkes would be able to apparate in those conditions.

However, Fawkes was the very reason that Albus was approached by Aberforth and a whole group of older boys that Monday afternoon. Lunch had just finished, and Albus had started heading up to class with the rest of the Gryffindor first years. Aberforth held him back.

'You can go to class in a minute, little brother,' Aberforth said, 'but first, there are some people who want to talk to you.'

Albus was surprised to find that more than twenty boys, ranging from scrawny third years to big and burly seventh years, had gathered in the corner of the Entrance Hall to meet with him. He felt terribly small and unimportant in front of them. Albus cast a nervous glance at Aberforth, his eyes asking for an explanation. The explanation came from the Head Boy, a very good looking Hufflepuff by the name of Walter Diggory.

'Little chap,' Walter said, 'your brother tells us that you have a way to get in and out of Hogwarts without having to traverse this awful weather.'

Albus immediately shot a look of venom at Aberforth, but Aberforth gave him a questioning look. He seemed to be of the inclination that nobody knew exactly how Albus could do it, but they just needed his help with something.

'I do,' Albus said hesitantly. 'Do you need to get out of Hogwarts?'

'As a matter of fact, yes,' said Walter, his eyes shifting around like those of a guilty prisoner. 'You see, its Valentine's Day this weekend, but the Hogsmeade visit is going to be called off on account of the weather. So, we, er, we all need some supplies for ... for, you know …'

Albus might only be eleven, but he knew perfectly well that all these boys wanted to pepper their girlfriends with presents on Valentine's Day.

'I can get to Hogsmeade, I suppose,' Albus said. 'But I do not know how much use I will be. I mean, I do not know where to go about finding things for Valentine's …'

'That is where I come in,' Aberforth interjected. 'Albus will provide the, shall we say, transport, and I will do the purchasing of required goods. For a fee of two Knuts for each purchase made, naturally…'

Aberforth was wearing a wickedly commercial look, but strangely none of the twenty boys seemed the slightest fazed by this. They quickly dug into their pockets and showered Aberforth with Silver Sickles and Bronze Knuts, before placing their orders on Aberforth's scroll.

'I will buy everything they ask for,' Aberforth explained to Albus afterward, 'and we will share the profit between us.'

'Hmm, I could do with some money,' Albus said. 'I have been thinking of buying Fawkes a stand for my room, so he has something to perch on. Why are they asking for my help anyway? I read in _Hogwarts – A History _that there are plenty of ways to get out of Hogwarts if you so desire.'

'Of course there are,' Aberforth said, 'but the storm has covered the exits of the tunnels with thick layers of snow and sleet. Even I would not brave that weather for my girlfriend …'

Aberforth's shocked expression gave away that he had not meant to let slip that piece of information. Albus' blue eyes twinkled in a way that only a little brother's eyes can, upon discovering that their older brother was in love.

'Ooh, Abers, who is it?' Albus said, poking Aberforth hard in the ribs and causing him to spill half the Knuts and Sickles. 'Is it Cecilia Warkworth?'

'No, not that Gorgon!' protested Aberforth. Cecilia was the large and motherly fifth year in Gryffindor who scared all the younger kids with her enormity.

'Who is it, then,' Albus demanded. 'You _know_ I am going to find out, you might as well tell me now!'

'That would spoil the game for you then, wouldn't it,' Aberforth teased back. He hurriedly shoved the coins into his back and ran off, leaving Albus determined to find out who his older brother was seeing. As he thought wickedly to himself, this was something that he could _accidentally_ slip into an owl home; once the storm was over and the owl post was up and running again, of course.

Albus found some time that week to escape the company of the Pirates (whom he continued to spend almost all his time with), and go to the library alone. The thought of buying a stand for Fawkes had him thinking about what type of stand might suit a phoenix. As he pondered this, he realised that he actually knew very little about his pet. Apart from the fact that Fawkes wanted to live in an Everliving Oak, thought of himself as an adventurous sort, could warm you up on the inside with his song, had tears that revived tired old owls and could apparate anywhere in a flash of flame; Albus actually knew close to nothing about phoenixes. So he resolved to read up on the mythical creature, hoping that might shed light on what sort of stand would suit Fawkes.

Albus asked Madam Cross, the Librarian, to help him in his search for an appropriate book. Also the Quidditch referee, Madam Cross had been very nice to Albus since that memorable day when Gryffindor had beaten Slytherin after half the teams had been done in by injuries. She gladly agreed to help, and before long had found Albus a book entitled, _Creatures of Myth and Legend: A Natural History._

Albus found a seat in the far corner of the library, where he was unlikely to be disturbed by anyone else. He paged through the book, mildly interested in almost everything he encountered. There were Werewolves, Vampires, Centaurs, Unicorns, Gryffins, Hippogriffs, the Sphinx, Manticores and Dragons to name a few. Albus finally found a chapter on the Phoenix and proceeded to read.

_The Phoenix (Phoenix phoenicaea) is one of the least understood creatures of legend, yet is known to be one of the most powerfully magical. There is said to be only one of these creatures in existence at any one time. As the legend goes, when a phoenix dies it erupts into a ball of flame and is reduced to a pile of ashes. From the depths of those ashes the phoenix is reborn. It then encloses the ashes in an egg preserved with myrrh, and flies the ashes of its forefather to the legendary Egyptian city of Heliopolis, the city of the Sun God Ra. As no such city has ever been found, it is presumed that …_

Albus turned to the front of the book and checked the publication date. It said 1847. The book had obviously been printed before Archaeon's remarkable discoveries under the sands of the Egyptian desert. He carried on reading.

… _the phoenix is the only creature aware of its location, or that the phoenix does not exist at all. In fact, eye witness accounts of the phoenix are few and far between. The only evidence in favour of the phoenix being the genuine article is that references are made to a reincarnating bird of red and gold plumage in several cultures across the planet. Wizard writings in China, Arabia, Ancient Greece, Ancient Egypt and Ancient Inca all bear reference to the phoenix. The astonishing feature of their writings is the similarity between their descriptions of the phoenix. Given that these cultures are so far apart in time and space, the existence of the phoenix cannot be ruled out._

Albus smiled at himself. He was in no doubt as to whether phoenixes existed or not. He thought about sending a letter to the editor of _Creatures of Myth and Legend: A Natural History_ so that their next edition could list A. P. W. B. Dumbledore as the world's sole owner of a phoenix. He continued to read the chapter, until he reached the part relating to the powers of the phoenix.

_The phoenix is said to have many remarkable powers. It is a highly intelligent creature, with the capacity to understand human emotion and motivation. Some have speculated that the phoenix is able to communicate with people by means other than speech. The phoenix song itself is one of the most beautiful sounds known to wizard-kind. It is believed that the phoenix song can inspire strength and courage in those who are pure of heart, while it said to tear at the fabric of the souls of those who are of evil intention. The phoenix song, and the tears of a phoenix, are both purported to have healing abilities. Indeed, Healers the world over have searched for the phoenix in the hope that this remarkable creature can aid them in their fight against illness._

Albus started to have second thoughts about letting the world know that he owned a phoenix. He would be inundated by requests from wizards and witches all over the world to see it, and by Healers to use it for helping the sick. Maybe it was better he kept a low profile about his pet. Yes, that was a good idea, Albus thought. Fawkes probably preferred it this way, too. Fawkes would probably just disapparate and never return to him if he told everyone that he owned a phoenix.

The last paragraph on the phoenix described more of the creature's powers, most of which Albus was already aware of.

_The phoenix has the ability to disappear and reappear wherever it chooses, usually departing and arriving in a flash of flame. It also possesses inordinate strength, and can carry weights far exceeding its own. Furthermore, the phoenix is said to be able to disapparate with human passengers. Whether or not this is possible is heavily disputed by experts in the field of magical transportation. Whatever the truths or falsities about the phoenix, we may never know for certain. All that is known about the phoenix is that it is one of mythology's least understood phenomena._

Albus closed the book rather more heavily than he had intended. The thump seemed to awaken some of the boys snoozing at a neighbouring table from their stupor. The chapter had been interesting, but had not really revealed anything that Albus did not already know. Moreover, it had not helped him in the slightest in his quest to think of what type of stand to get for Fawkes. Never matter, Albus thought, he did not have the money to buy one yet. He would cross that bridge when it came.

A more pressing bridge to cross for Albus was figuring out who Aberforth's girlfriend was. He was readying himself mentally for a tough detective case when he overheard some third year girls giggling in the Gryffindor common room that evening.

'… and then Andrew kissed her, and she went bright red!' one girl was chattering excitedly to her giggling friends. 'I have never seen her so happy.'

'What about Annabel?' another girl asked in a low voice, as though speaking of some scandal. 'Is it true? Is sheseeing _him?_ I mean, he is quite good looking, but he is a bit backward, isn't he?'

'He might be slow,' said the first girl, 'but he is terribly funny! Who else gets away with giving Professor Prewett Firewhiskies, after all?'

'Excuse me,' Albus said, feeling his own cheeks go red when the gaggle of girls turned their eyes towards this intruder who dared interrupt their private gossip session. 'Did I just overhear you talking about my brother Aberforth?'

'Yes, but what has it got to do with you?' said the second girl snappily. She looked ready to spew fire and bite Albus' head off.

'Oh no, it does not matter,' Albus said. He wandered off, leaving the girls to gossip in such a whisper that it sounded like a cauldron was bubbling over in the corner of the Gryffindor common room. Albus had heard all he needed to. Aberforth was going out with Annabel. Not first year Annabel, butAnnabel Polkiss, a rather thin and gawky third year Gryffindor who wore spectacles, pigtails and had a face covered in freckles. Albus looked at Annabel from across the common room. She was sitting by the fire, her pigtails dangling over her homework. Albus reasoned that she would actually look quite pretty, _if_ she removed the spectacles, the pigtails, the freckles and the gawky look.

Albus decided then and there to leave Aberforth alone about his new girlfriend. Any jokes sent Aberforth's way would only seem horrid and nasty. Albus knew that Aberforth covered up for his own gawkiness and messy hair by being a clown. Annabel looked like a misfit, and so seemed just right for Albus' older brother.

When Albus turned around, intent on heading back to the Pirates' corner of the common room, he found himself face to face with Victoria Moody.

'Albus, where have you been?' she asked. For a moment Albus' throat was too dry to compose an answer.

'I was in the library,' he managed to cough out.

'Well, you are here now, so that is good,' Victoria said. 'We have all been waiting for you. The other Pirates want to … well; come along and we will talk about it.'

Albus rejoined the Pirates in their cosy little corner of the common room. William, Mars and Alabastor were wearing their most mischievous of faces.

'At last, the ringleader,' William said keenly. 'Sit down Albus. We have been talking about our latest prank.'

'Oh, and what might that involve?' Albus asked, pretending to keep a straight face but all the while knowing that his eyes were twinkling with delight.

'As you are aware,' William said grandly, 'the Pirates have not performed any mischief since the arrival of Peeves. We accept that he has done a wonderful job, but we are all feeling underused.'

'Point taken,' Albus said. He was enjoying his little game with William, pretending that he did not want to perform a prank when, really, he did.

'We thought that Valentines Day this weekend was a perfect opportunity to cause some mayhem,' William said. 'Seeing as love will be in the air and all.'

'And what are you thinking of doing?' asked Albus.

'You will be proud of us, Albus,' Mars cut in. 'We thought up a prank by ourselves, but we might need your help in pulling it off.'

'Now I am listening,' Albus said, smiling at last. 'Let us hear it, then.'

'You know the book your parents got me for Christmas, _Charm your Peers_?' Mars said, 'well, I found this spell for creating a charm that makes a person fall temporarily in love with the first person that they see, and Edward and I taught ourselves how to do it.'

'And then Alabastor and I learned how to transfigure feathers into fake, feathery darts,' William said. His cheeks were curling into an evil grin. 'So we figured that if we make lots of fake darts, and Mars and Edward put the charms on them …'

'Then you can get Peeves to go around shooting everyone with them on Valentines,' Mars concluded proudly. 'That way nobody will be able to link the darts to us.'

'But we thought that Peeves could call out "compliments of the Pirates" every time he shoots someone,' Emily added. 'So we still get the credit.' Albus was surprised by her. Normally Emily was mildly disapproving of their antics.

'So, what do you think?' Victoria said keenly. Albus realised that all nine of the Pirates were staring at him, desperately awaiting his approval.

'Did any of you seriously think I would say no?' Albus said; put out.

'Well, you have not been behaving like a Pirate lately,' William said. 'We have actually been a little bit worried about you, mate.'

'Oh!' Albus exclaimed. He had to shake his head, realising how he must have seemed ever since that night when he had overheard Professors Fudge and Black talking about their plans. 'I am sorry, chaps, I have been a little distracted by that whole business about … by things. But you do not have to worry about me anymore. I am a Pirate through and through. Come, Mars, let me have a look at _Charm your Peers. _Let me learn the spell too. We want to make the victims fall in love for more than a few seconds. That will make it more fun!'

The Pirates looked delighted to have Albus back on board and everything back to normal. Once Albus had joined Mars and Edward in mastering the temporary love charm, William and Alabastor had come up with about four hundred darts and the girls had produced a bow for Peeves to fire them with, Albus was able to approach the devilish poltergeist. Peeves; of course, was more than happy to be involved.

'Yes, your Headmastership sir,' he said greasily, 'I will gladly see to it that all the wrong people are kissing on Valentine's Day. Never liked that day, I did.'

* * *

Albus had another Valentine's Day task to complete as well. On Friday after school, he and Aberforth found Fawkes and apparated into the basement of the Hog's Head. Albus had never been there before, and had no interest in going up into the shops. He waited in the basement of the pub, having to sit in the fumes that kept wafting over from the crates in the corner. By the time Aberforth returned, carrying three bags full of romantic supplies from the shops of Hogsmeade, Albus was feeling rather light-headed.

'We got plenty of profit,' Aberforth said, planting five Silver Sickles and three Bronze Knuts into Albus' hands. 'Now let's get back to Hogwarts. I've got to deliver these to all the boys before the end of today.'

Valentine's Day promised to be one of the Pirates' most spectacular pranks ever. The Gryffindor first years entered the Great Hall for breakfast just itching for it all to begin. The Great Hall had been enchanted to look romantic, but the puffy pink decorations covering every wall and the countless roses on the house tables was enough to make the boys sick. Only the girls seemed impressed by them.

Albus had instructed Peeves to start his mischief about midway through breakfast. He wanted there to be enough people present to witness the mayhem, and enough people present to be afflicted by the mayhem!

Sure enough, Peeves floated into the Great Hall wearing pink pantaloons and a bright red heart on his sleeve. He gave an ear-splitting wail that silenced the entire Great Hall and had every neck craning up to see what was interrupting their breakfast.

'Good morning, Hogwarts,' he said sweetly. 'Happy Valentine's Day, compliments of the Pirates!'

Peeves drew an enchanted feather quiver to his bow and aimed directly at the staff table. Either Professor Prewett was not ready for what was coming her way, or she could not be bothered stopping it. Whatever it was, moments after the dart had struck her on the chest she had clambered over the table and was snogging the Groundskeeper, Romulus Lupin.

To Albus' and the Pirates' delight, the next dart hit Professor Fudge on the chest. Before he could help himself, he was in the arms of Professor Rookwood, the Potions Mistress. They were already crying with mirth, but the next event that transpired almost had William and Alabastor wetting themselves. Peeves hit Professor Black in the back with a dart, just when he looked to be escaping the Great Hall through the door to the side of the staff table. He turned and the first person he saw was the bushy-haired, bracelet-infested Professor Trelawney. Albus felt the tears streaming down his face as the Headmaster snogged the celebrated Seer, Cassandra Trelawney.

Peeves turned his attentions to the students in the Great Hall. As soon as they realised that they were coming under fire, many clambered from their seats and tried to get to the doors. But Peeves was a smart little poltergeist and he swooped down to cover the doorway. Those who tried to escape were soon being struck down with darts and subsequently found themselves kissing each other.

The Pirates kept finding new sources of amusement. Everywhere they turned, they saw new and unusual couples kissing. The oddest sight was Thomas Jones, Gryffindor captain, kissing the Ravenclaw Seeker. They had the decisive match of the House Quidditch Cup coming up in a few months! Aberforth had obviously had his eyes on Annabel Polkiss all along, because when he was hit, he kissed her at once.

Albus was enjoying himself thoroughly until Peeves came to hover above the Pirates at the Gryffindor table. He realised with a sinking heart that, while he had instructed the poltergeist not to shoot him with a dart, he had forgotten to tell him not to shoot any of the other Pirates.

'Having fun there, Peeves?' William cried.

'Absolutely, your Deputy Headmastership sir,' Peeves cried, 'how about you?' Then Peeves drew a quiver and aimed it straight at William. Before William could cry out or hide under the table, he had taken a feather dart to the cheek. Moments later William had turned to the girl that he had tried to impress by having Peeves flood the bathroom the other day. It was Annabel Bradshaw, the pretty brunette among the Pirates. It caused hysteria among the other Gryffindor first years to see William shyly kiss Annabel on the cheek. She gave a shriek and ran from the room. William's face went a lighter shade of purple and he clambered under the table in shame.

To Albus' horror, Peeves next fixed his sights on Victoria. He reached for his wand to perform the Orbularum spiritus charm and put Peeves in a bubble, but it was too late. A dart hit Victoria on the shoulder.

Albus immediately looked to see where Victoria was looking. She was staring straight ahead at Mars, who was sitting opposite her. Mars looked terrified, knowing what was sure to happen next.

But to everyone's surprise, Victoria went bright red, turned to face Albus and gave him the briefest of pecks on the cheek. Then she too ran from the Great Hall, looking positively mortified with herself.

Albus stared at the other Pirates, who stared back.

'That was not supposed to happen,' Albus said.

'Apparently not,' said an older, deeper voice. It was Thomas Jones, who had just come over to where they were sitting. The dart that had hit him had worn off already. He popped down on the seat beside Albus. 'You know, I always had a funny feeling that you were behind all the piracy going on at Hogwarts.'

Albus thought his day could not get any worse. He began to fear that everyone might know about the Pirates before too long.

'Do not worry, I am not going to unveil you as the mastermind,' Thomas said with a chuckle. 'Nobody would believe me anyway; first years behind all of this.'

'Do you know why Victoria kissed Albus and not Mars?' Alabastor asked.

'Ah, that little matter,' Thomas said with a grin and a wink at Albus. 'True love is a far more powerful magic than a prank charm, my little mate!'

The other Pirates stared at Albus, their minds churning over this revelation. Albus realised that he had to get out of the Great Hall at once. He grabbed his toast and ran from the room, just as the Pirates started laughing at him.

Albus ran into Aberforth when he got back to the Gryffindor common room. His brother was holding hands with Annabel Polkiss and had a flushed look about him. He appeared to be on his way out of Gryffindor tower.

'Albus, nice work there,' Aberforth said. 'By the way, there were some left over sweets from our trip to Hogsmeade. I dumped them on your bed for you. I am sure the other first years will enjoy sharing them with you. Anyhow, I am off.'

Quite where Aberforth was off to was never revealed, because he and Annabel were through the portrait hole before Albus could pepper them with questions. Albus, meanwhile, was too embarrassed by what had happened in the Great Hall to remain in the common room. He went up to the first year boys' bedroom and found a huge pile of toffees, sweets and chocolates piled up on his bed. The Pirates would enjoy eating these, but right at that moment, Albus did not want to face up to them.

It was just as Albus was about to open a box of chocolates for himself that a thought struck him. Victoria had _chosen_ to kiss him, and her desire to do so had overcome the love spell in the dart. That could only mean that she had a crush on him. Albus was overwhelmed. He was eleven! Girls were friends, but Yuk to anything more! He was torn between the urge to feel sick and the urge to run up to Victoria and tell her that he also had a crush on her. There was only one thing for it.

Albus summoned Fawkes and selected the very best of the sweets on his bed. It was a box with the words _Christine's Chewy Chocolate Cherubs_ in golden lettering on the cover. He turned to Fawkes, addressing the phoenix with a voice more serious than he had ever used before.

'Fawkes, please drop this on Victoria's lap, wherever she is,' Albus said. 'But she cannot see you; otherwise she will know that this came from me. She knows that I own a phoenix. Do you understand?'

Fawkes leaned forward and nuzzled Albus on the cheek. The phoenix's eyes met Albus', and he realised that the bird was feeling sorry for him. Fawkes took the box of Christine's Chewy Chocolate Cherubs, vanished without a flame, and then reappeared in a burst of flame on Albus' bed without the box.

'Thank you Fawkes,' Albus said. He shoved the pile of sweets off his bed and sank into it. At least he had given Victoria something for Valentine's Day, even if she was not to know that he shared her crush.

By the end, it had been the most embarrassing day of Albus' life. When he had reappeared in the Gryffindor common room hoping to share the sweets with the other Pirates, he'd had to endure hours of taunting about sitting in a tree with Victoria, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. He was happier than he had ever been when the candles went out in the first year boys' bedroom to declare the end of the day.

When he thought about it, Albus realised that dealing with the prospect of having Professors Fudge and Black after him was easier to deal with than this business of love. Love was a deep kind of magic, far too deep for Albus at this stage. This was seventh year magic at the very least.

Next year, Albus decided, there would be no Valentine's Day prank from the Pirates. He declared to himself, determinedly, that this was going to be the last time he tried to mess with a magic called Love.

* * *

Author's Note: SPOILERS FOR "HALF BLOOD PRINCE". DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU HAVE READ THE BOOK.

Yes, I know that was a more fun chapter than some of the more recent ones. Don't worry, I have got a careful plot planned for the remainder of the book, but after what happened in the HBP I felt that Albus needed some love. He died with very few friends around him. In a recent interview JK Rowling confirmed what I thought all along - Albus was very distant from other human beings. Being 150 years old, having outlived all the friends in his life, and being a far greater wizard than anyone else combined to make him a sad old man.

I am so depressed. I hope Snape dies a nasty death involving that Sectumsempre spell, a few days of Cruciatus and an Imperius curse forcing him to dunk his head in acid.

Thanks to those who continue to write reviews for me. I have finally cracked 100 reviews!


	15. Into the Serpent's Eye

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"Courage is the ability to do what everyone else is afraid to do"

* * *

Chapter 15 – Into the Serpent's Eye

For a time after Valentine's Day the Pirates were split into two groups: the boys and the girls. William was too embarrassed to be anywhere near Annabel or vice versa, and Albus and Victoria would go a bright shade of magenta if either of them were within ten feet. Albus put up with the taunts from the others; until Mars, Alabastor and Edward finally lost interest and started talking about other things.

March arrived, and with it a sense of doom and gloom around the castle. The February storms cleared but the skies remained grey and the Hogwarts grounds turned from snowy white to a murky, dirty grey colour. End of year examinations were too close for comfort and Albus noticed a definite change in the behaviour of the older students. Anyone from about fourth year upwards was to be seen hurrying along the corridors with piles of books clutched under their arms, looking over their shoulders as if expecting someone like Professor Prewett to attack them for not being in the library, studying.

Even some of the first years started panicking. Jenning Ranger was to be seen without a smirk, and leading a group of harried Ravenclaw first years from class to the library to class again. In all, Albus reckoned that the ten Pirates were the only people in the school not in the least bit concerned by exams. Them and Aberforth, that is. Aberforth never seemed worried about anything. The reason for the Pirates' complacency was two-fold. First they had an excellent housemistress in Professor Prewett, who had continued to give them Defence against the Dark Arts lessons; and second, they had Albus to help them with their homework.

Indeed, Albus had started to master all of his lessons. He learned his atlas of the stars by heart, and was thus an expert at Astronomy. Professor Prewett gave him extension work in Charms so that he had covered _The Standard Book of Spells – Grade Three_ and was already on to Grade Four. Albus had a knack for Potions and usually spent those lessons fixing the Pirates' concoctions. Due to his growing of an Everliving Oak, Albus had an excellent grasp of Herbology and got a regular helping of points for Gryffindor from Professor Longbottom every lesson. Defence against the Dark Arts was a moot point; Professor Fudge had stopped teaching the class new material and Albus learned all he needed from Professor Prewett.

As for Transfiguration, Albus had finally taught himself how to turn a feather into a bird. He provided a valuable service for people whose owls had died in the February storms by transfiguring feathers into replacement owls. This was Aberforth's ingenious idea, and had resulted in Albus earning half a dozen Galleons. He was very close to being able to afford a stand for Fawkes.

In all, Albus' magical abilities were thriving at Hogwarts. But he could not shake a nagging voice in the back of his head that kept on saying something was not right. How true this was became apparent when Albus was woken up in the middle of the night by an unexpected visitor.

Albus was in the middle of a wonderful dream in which he had transfigured himself into a phoenix and was flying high above the golden city of Heliopolis. Fawkes was flying to his left. All of a sudden a deep voice called out from the great beyond. 'Albus,' it said, 'Albus.' Albus thought that Ra, the Sun God, must be talking to him from the fierce blue sky. The voice came again, more insistent this time, 'Albus! Albus, wake up!'

Albus felt a hand vigorously shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes to find William's shag of black hair hanging over his face. Alabastor, Mars and Edward were also peering at him with sleepy eyes. Mars had his wand out and lit up. The rest of the dormitory was in darkness.

'What is going on?' Albus mumbled. 'Why are you all awake?'

'The portrait has been calling your name for the last five minutes,' William said. 'None of us could sleep through that!'

'What portrait?' Albus demanded. 'There is no portrait in our dormitory.'

'That portrait,' Edward said, pointing to the corner of the room. Albus rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, stumbled out of bed and staggered over to the corner. Sure enough, hidden behind the back posts of Edward's bed was an ancient picture frame, coveredin cobwebs. Albus had never known that it was there, and from the looks of it, nobody had known that it was there for at least a hundred years!

Albus crouched down and wiped the cobwebs from the portrait. Mars pointed his wand at the portrait to reveal its occupant. Albus found himself looking at an oddly familiar face. It was an ancient old man with thousands of wrinkles, but a large nose, straggly white hair and twinkling blue eyes.

'Grandfather?' asked Albus, straining to remember the face of his grandfather, who had died when he was very young.

'No, not quite,' said the old portrait in a croaky voice, 'great great great grandfather, as a matter of fact. I am Albion Dumbledore, born in sixteen eighty, died in seventeen eighty.'

'How long have you been sitting here in the corner covered in dust and cobwebs?' Albus asked.

'Oh no, this is not my portrait,' said the old man. 'My portrait is somewhere on the sixth floor. Was, somewhere on the sixth floor. I left it back in eighteen twelve to visit a friend of mine and since then have never been able to find it again. I think the Caretaker removed the frame.'

'Oh,' said Albus, wondering why he was crouching down on a cold floor talking to a dead relative in a portrait. 'Excuse me, great great great grandfather, but why were you calling my name?'

'Ah, yes, let me see,' said the old man. He was stroking his massive beard, his face screwed up in concentration as if to remember what he was doing there. 'Oh, the other portraits wanted me to let you know that a plan is afoot; a very deadly plan, one that involves you and other unsuspecting people. A conversation is going on at this very moment, one that you must hear.'

'Where is the conversation?' Albus said urgently, silently cursing himself for not waking up sooner. He was now wholly awake, his senses alert. He could swear he heard the pounding hearts of William and the other boys.

'The Slytherin common room,' said the old Dumbledore portrait. 'Fawkes will take you. You must not be seen.'

Albus felt something flutter beside him. Fawkes had appeared out of thin air. Albus turned to his friends as he reached out to grab Fawkes' tail. He did not say anything to them, but as their eyes met, he realised that they seemed to understand how grave the situation was.

Albus and Fawkes appeared in a very dark corner of the Slytherin common room without a flash of flame to announce their arrival. It took Albus' eyes a few moments to adjust to his new surroundings. He was on his hands and knees on a cold stone floor. A draught of icy wind was brushing at his ankles. Somewhere on the other side of the dark room, Albus saw the glow of what was unmistakeably an illuminated wand. Someone was whispering in eager tones where the light was. Albus crawled slowly towards the voice, making sure that one of the Slytherin couches was in between him and the light of the wand at all times. He finally got close enough to hear what was being said. He sat with his back against a couch, trying desperately to slow his heartbeat down so that he could hear clearly.

The voice was unmistakeably that of Noxious Black. Albus presumed that he had arrived midway through the conversation.

'So, once we get him cornered, the lot of us, he will have no choice but to fight us,' Noxious said.

'But he owns that pesky ruddy bird,' said a girl's voice. Albus thought it might be Isabella Malfoy's. 'I read that phoenixes can disapparate with passengers.'

So the Slytherins can read, Albus thought to himself.

'My father has got that covered,' Noxious said with a nasty little laugh that sent shivers up Albus' spine.

'How?' asked one of the Slytherins. 'You cannot kill a phoenix, can you?'

'Oh yes you can,' Noxious said. 'A nicely timed killing curse from Professor Fudge should do the trick. He plans to force Dumbledore to bring his stupid bird to Defence against the Dark Arts next week to demonstrate the _Avada Kedavra_ curse and how only a phoenix can survive it. The bird will be reduced to cinders and it will not be any use to Dumbledore for a wee while.'

'That is clever,' said another Slytherin.

'Anyway, getting back to the plan,' Noxious said, 'we will have Dumbledore cornered and he will have no choice but to fight us. I know he will probably hex a few of us, but Professor Fudge has taught me a really brilliant curse. Its advanced dark magic, fifth year and above, but Professor Fudge reckons I have got the potential to be an outstanding dark wizard.'

Noxious paused, apparently preening under the attention of his fawning audience. Albus shuddered. Not only was this plan scaring him, but Noxious seemed like a more dangerous opponent than he used to be.

'So, tell us about this spell?' simpered Isabella.

'It is called _Cardia Mortis,'_ Noxious said proudly. 'It casts a purple flame across the chest of the victim and causes injury to their heart. It cannot kill, and it is not quite as vicious as the Unforgivable Curses because it has a cure. But that will not stop me using it on Dumbledore.'

'So, the plan is to knock Dumbledore out, is it?' asked the voice of Frederick Bode.

'No, absolutely not,' Noxious said. 'I want to hurt him, but we will all have to take a few hexes from him. I mean, a few burning eyes or growing ears is not too much to take, is it?'

'I do not want to take a hex from Dumbledore!' cried one of the Slytherins. There were murmurings of agreement. It was a mark of how good Albus was at his magic that none of the Slytherins wanted to engage him in a duel, even if it was ten to one.

'Don't you get it?' raged Noxious, a little too loudly. His voice echoed through the empty Slytherin common room. 'The point is, when Professor Fudge and my father come running to the scene, it has got to look like he has attacked us, not the other way around. That will give my father an excuse to expel Dumbledore, no matter what everyone else watching says.'

'What about Professor Prewett?' another asked. 'Won't she come interfering again?'

'That, my friends, will also be covered,' Noxious said, as proudly as if he had thought this all up himself, which, Albus reasoned, he clearly had not. This was the work of Professors Black and Fudge. Noxious went on, 'Caretaker Umbridge will find a reason to discipline some Gryffindors; I hope it's those mud-bloods and half-bloods Stephenson, Figg and Bradshaw. So Professor Prewett will be out of the way.'

Albus seethed inside. The thought of Umbridge punishing Edward, Elizabeth and Annabel because they were not pure blood wizards and witches made Albus' blood boil. He had to fight the urge to leap out and confront the Slytherins in their own common room, but he knew that would be suicide.

'So, that is the plan,' Noxious said. 'We corner Dumbledore so that he has no choice but to fight us, my father bursts in on the scene and discovers us ten all injured and crying for help, and Dumbledore is expelled.'

'What happens after that?' Isabella asked.

'I … er, I do not know,' Noxious said. His voice went all sulky. Albus guessed that Professor Black had not revealed the whole plan to his son, knowing that Noxious could hardly be trusted to keep his big mouth shut. Noxious did, however, say, 'what I do know is this: after this plan works, things are going to be completely and utterly different around here. Professor Fudge will become Headmaster and Professor Rookwood will probably become Housemistress of Slytherin. Prewett will be history and so will every stinking mud-blood and half-blood in this place. Not to mention muggle-lovers like Dumbledore and Potter.'

'What will happen to your father then, if he won't be Headmaster anymore?' Frederick asked.

'He will have so much greater power than that,' Noxious boasted. 'He will have more power than anyone before him, I think. Being his son, I know I will be rewarded, and if you all take part in this plan, you will too; and your families!'

The Slytherins gossiped amongst each other, sounding thrilled. Albus shifted position so that he could peer under the couch that he was hiding behind. He managed to count about ten pairs of legs and arms. So it was only the Slytherin first years. He could take them by himself, he thought! It was dark; if he jinxed the one with the lit up wand, he reckoned that he could hex them all before any of them knew what had hit them.

Fawkes appeared in front of Albus and their eyes met. The phoenix implored Albus not to act like a fool and to come back with him to Gryffindor tower. Albus realised that his phoenix was right. He would be risking everything by attacking the Slytherins in their own house in the middle of the night. All it would take was for Noxious to send out a Cardia Mortis spell into the darkness and knock Albus out, and he would be expelled before sunrise. Whatever Professor Black's plans after Albus was expelled, it was clear that his expulsion was a very important part of those plans. Albus could not risk playing into Professor Black's hands by giving him an excuse to do it.

Albus smiled gratefully at Fawkes for stopping him from acting like an idiot. He reached out and grabbed Fawkes by the tail feathers. They disappeared without a flash of flame.

Back in the first year boys' bedroom in Gryffindor, Mars, William, Edward and Alabastor crowded around to hear what had transpired in the Slytherin common room. Albus told them everything he had heard, and everything he had figured out by deduction. When he was finished, there was a deathly quiet in the room. By the light of Mars' wand, all five faces were as pale as Death himself.

'What are you going to do?' Mars said at last.

Albus started pacing the length of the first year boys' dormitory. He needed to think. Every time an idea popped into his head he said it out loud, for the benefit of his friends, but did not stop pacing. If you put all the pieces together, this is what Albus said during his ten minute pace around the dormitory:

'For starters, the Pirates are going to have to band together again. None of this boy/girl separation, understood? I need the protection of all of you. Under no circumstances can I be left alone. Secondly, we need to avoid Noxious and the Slytherins at all costs. We must avoid this confrontation that they are planning to have. While I am at it, I really ought to teach myself how to defend against the Cardia Mortis spell. The last thing I need is a small heart attack as a present from Noxious Black. That reminds me, Professor Fudge wants to kill Fawkes! Fawkes, come here!'

The phoenix fluttered over to rest on Albus' shoulder. Albus stroked the golden plumes behind the phoenix' beautiful head.

'Listen Fawkes,' Albus said gently. 'I want you to go away for a while. I cannot let Professor Fudge kill you, so you have to get out of Hogwarts.'

Fawkes turned his magnificent head so that his eyes met Albus. He communicated something to him and then vanished. Albus translated for his friends.

'Fawkes has gone to live in the Everliving Oak I planted for him deep in the Forbidden Forest,' Albus said. 'He says he must be nearby because I will need him in the very present future. While I think of it, I am going to have to send a message to my father. He needs to know at least part of what is going on. I will write him in the morning.'

Albus stopped pacing and turned to his friends, all of whom continued to look as pale as ghosts. Edward, despite his freckles, nearly looked transparent.

'Cheer up, boys,' Albus said nonchalantly. He was no longer afraid, but the same could not be said of his friends. They hated Albus' ability to calm himself down when the rest of them were utterly petrified. Albus continued, 'listen, everything will be alright. Just think, if we had not made friends with the portraits, we would not even know about this. I would probably have walked straight into Noxious' trap, got caught in a duel with them, suffered the Cardia Mortis spell and then been expelled by Professor Black, only to see him become really powerful for some reason because of it. At least now we know what to avoid.'

'I am scared for you, mate,' William said shakily. 'I am scared for all of us, actually.'

'Don't be,' Albus said. 'Here, have some chocolate. This is the last of the Valentine's Day stuff left over from Aberforth's sale.'

Albus pulled out a mouth watering box of Filibuster's Chocolate Fireballs, which the five boys enjoyed as an explosive midnight feast. The heat from the chocolate eruptions in their bellies warmed them all up considerably, and they went to bed feeling a lot safer in the knowledge that they were one step ahead of Noxious, whatever his father's evil plans might be.

The first thing Albus did the next morning was to write a letter to Archaeon. He did not want his father to come bursting through the gates of Hogwarts, but he also needed the reassurance that his father would come to his aid if needed. Archaeon was, after all, famous for defeat of Shakala Mambazo and widely regarded as one of the best wizards in the world. It was only what the public thought of as his pointless interest in Archaeowizardry that kept him from being held in even higher regard. So Albus wrote a brief but urgent letter:

_Dear Father,_

_Life at Hogwarts has taken a turn for the worse, I am afraid to report. There are plans afoot to have me expelled. I cannot describe them to you as I am uncertain as to what they are. But I know enough from the portrait of our ancestor Albion Dumbledore to know that I am in trouble._

_Please do not come to Hogwarts, but I would be glad for your words of wisdom at the moment. I need to know what to do._

_Your loving son,_

_A. P. W. B. Dumbledore_

Albus used a school owl to send the letter on its way, watching the bird until it disappeared into the creamy pink haze on the rim of the horizon. He had been accompanied to the Owlery by all four the Gryffindor first year boys. They formed a ring around him as they marched down to breakfast.

Unsurprisingly, Noxious Black and his army of Slytherin friends were waiting at the mighty entrance to the Great Hall.

'Ah, Dumbledore,' Noxious said. 'We have been waiting for you.'

'Get out of our way,' William said irritably. 'We do not want to have to duel with you.'

Albus cringed. He thought that William might have just blown their cover over the fact that they knew the secret plan. But Noxious did not blink or act in any way to suggest that he was surprised by William's comment. Instead, his eyes locked on Albus'.

'Dumbledore, do not let the Potter idiot speak for you,' Noxious said. 'Do you remember our little ten galleon bet that Davey Jones would lose to me in a duel at the end of the year?'

'Yes, I do,' Albus said loudly. He now wished that he had not been so bold on his first night at Hogwarts. He made a silent promise to himself never to make foolish bets like that again.

'Well, I want to have it this weekend,' Noxious said, smirking and crossing his arms.

Albus's brain worked quickly. He knew that this had something to do with forcing Albus into a corner and into a duel with the Slytherins. Unfortunately, he had made a fair bet with Noxious and the consequences of backing out would be the trashing of his reputation among all the first years at Hogwarts. Even expulsion was better than that.

'The terms of our agreement, as everyone will remind you,' Albus said calmly, 'are that the duel occurs at the end of first year. So, Davey Jones will duel with you on the last day of exams.'

Albus pushed through the protective guard of his friends, past the Slytherins and into the Great Hall. His friends hurriedly caught up, breathing heavily.

'Well, I think we should be alright until then,' Albus said. 'We will still avoid the Slytherins at every cost, but I think their plan is to duel me after Noxious has duelled Davey. I think he is convinced that he will beat Davey.'

'He will if he knows the Cardia Mortis spell,' Mars pointed out.

'By Merlin!' cried Albus, realising what this meant. 'I am going to have to spend every spare minute before exams figuring out how to protect myself and Davey against it!'

If Albus thought he had enough to worry about, the first lesson of the day proved him immediately wrong. The Gryffindors had Defence against the Dark Arts with the Slytherins and Professor Fudge. The dog-faced Slytherin housemaster marched to the front of the class, ordered everyone to sit down, and directed his eyes until they met Albus'.

'Dumbledore, will you kindly summon that phoenix of yours?' Professor Fudge said in an unnaturally soft, pleasant voice.

'I … I do not own one,' Albus said, feeling hot under the collar.

'You most certainly do,' Professor Fudge snapped. 'Ten points from Gryffindor for lying to me. I have enough witnesses to prove that you do. Now summon the phoenix. I need it for today's very special lesson. You would not want the rest of the class to miss out because you were being selfish, would you?'

The Slytherins pointed fake looks of disgust in Albus' direction. The Gryffindors knew better than to react.

'Professor, the phoenix does not belong to me anymore,' Albus said, not blinking at the bulldog face staring at him.

'Forty points from Gryffindor for continuing to lie to me!' yelled Professor Fudge. He marched down the aisle between the desks and pointed a fat finger at Albus' chest. Albus had to fight the urge to splutter when he was hit by a wave of Professor Fudge's bad breath. 'You will summon that phoenix and you will summon it now!'

Albus leaped to his feet, glaring at Professor Fudge. He felt like pulling out his wand and hexing the horrible old man.

'Alright then, I will show you that I do not own it anymore,' Albus said. He started screaming, not tearing his eyes from Professor Fudges', 'Fawkes! Fawkes! Come here! I need you! I am in lots of danger! Fawkes, if you do not come I am going to lose more points for Gryffindor! No, I am going to die! Fawkes! Fawkes!'

Fortunately, the phoenix did not appear in the room, just as Albus had predicted. The phoenix was far too smart for that. Albus let a gleam of triumph cross his eyes. Professor Fudge saw it, and his look grew even fouler.

'Fifty more points from Gryffindor,' Professor Fudge yelled. 'Get out of this class, Gryffindors. I will not teach any of you again. Not ever.'

As the Gryffindors made their glad exit from the room, William was heard to mutter under his breath, 'Let us hope so.'

That night in the Gryffindor common room, Albus got something that offered him even more relief; more than knowing that Fawkes was safe in the Forbidden Forest, more than knowing that a potential duel with the Slytherins was delayed until the end of exams in a few months, and more than knowing that the Gryffindors never ever had to have Defence against the Dark Arts with Professor Fudge again: Albus got a letter back from Archaeon.

_To my dearest son Albus,_

_I, too, have heard through the grapevine that all is not as it should be at Hogwarts and elsewhere. Therefore, rest assured that I am doing everything in my power to offset the plans of those who have designs on that which does not belong to them._

_My advice to you is this: do whatever it takes to avoid being expelled. I am certain that you are capable of working out what that will entail. You are well protected at Hogwarts, so do not fear anything or anyone._

_All my love,_

_Archaeon_

Albus breathed a sigh of immense relief as he handed the letter to the other Pirates to read. All the fears that had built up over the past months seemed to leave him with that letter. Archaeon Dumbledore had everything under control. That was all that mattered. Albus felt an enormous weight lift off his shoulders and sank back into his couch. He had nothing to worry about now.

Author's Note: Thanks once again to all my terrific reviewers. Sorry if I do not name names every time, but I am now getting so many reviews per chapter that it is hard to keep track of who reviewed which chapter. I still read every single review and am grateful for all the advice, criticisms and praise that you send my way. There are some excellent chapters coming up but give me a little bit of time as I am engaged in a stage play this week. I continue to be very upset by "Half-blood Prince", but alas, life goes on.


	16. The Protective Potion

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"Is there a greater force than the perpetuation of life?"

* * *

Chapter 16 – The Protective Potion

After Albus had received the letter from Archaeon, he was able to go about his daily life at Hogwarts without constantly having to worry about Professors Black and Fudge's plans to have him expelled and to use him in some evil plan. He knew that his father was a powerfully magical wizard and a wise one at that; Albus' eleven year old brain was simply too happy to leave the thinking to Archaeon.

What Albus did have to concern himself with was preparing his friend Davey Jones for the duel with Noxious Black. He knew that Noxious would be using the _Cardia Mortis_ spell on Davey; and probably on himself if Noxious had the chance. So he gave Davey lessons in Defence against the Dark Arts and spent the rest of his free time searching for some counter-spell to fight off the _Cardia Mortis._

'The most important thing,' Albus explained to Davey one afternoon, 'is to concentrate on what your opponent is doing. There will be Slytherins jeering at you from the sides, but you have to keep your eyes and ears fixed on Noxious and what he is doing.'

Albus, Davey and the Pirates were in a dark, rarely used corridor on the fifth floor. It was far too wintry still outside, the Hogwarts grounds a greyish slush of mud and snow.

'What if one of the other Slytherins hexes me?' asked Davey fearfully. Short and scruffy, with blonde hair and blue eyes, Davey was somehow smaller than even Elizabeth, the shortest of the Pirates.

'I will see to it that they don't,' Albus said. He caught a look of defiance from William and hastily said, 'we will see to it. All of us Gryffindor first years will make sure that the Slytherins do not cheat.'

'Noxious is still going to kill me,' Davey said.

'No he is not,' Albus said. 'Professor Prewett has been teaching us some really terrific Defence against the Dark Arts, and I have had some extension too. Now, I will teach you how to defend yourself and how to cast some nifty hexes at him, but first of all we need to talk about your enemy.'

'My enemy?' said Davey. 'I do not have any enemies! What do you mean by that?'

'Noxious Black is your enemy,' Albus said swiftly. 'At least, during the duel he is your enemy. You must remember that we cannot read each other's minds, not yet anyway, so it is impossible to know what he is going to do next. The best hope we have is to guess what he is going to do.'

'I have no chance then,' Davey said miserably.

'Listen to me!' Albus found himself snapping. He was getting a little irritated with Davey, but had to check himself. He had to remember that it was Davey having to duel Noxious, not him. Albus might have the confidence to duel Noxious, but Davey certainly did not. Albus continued, making his voice kinder, 'I am helping you, Davey. I have a pretty fair idea of what sorts of spells Noxious will use, and how he will use them. For one thing, Noxious is left-handed. That means that when he hexes you, his curses will be coming from your right towards your left. So if you spot him sending a hex towards you, just step to your right and you should be able to dodge it. Another thing I know about Noxious is that he is a pretty poor aim. If you keep on your toes, you might be able to avoid getting hit all together.'

'What if he aims well and does hit me?' Davey said.

'That is where the training in Defence against the Dark Arts comes in,' Albus said. 'Listen up, and I will teach you how to throw a disarming hex faster than Noxious can send a hex at you.'

Albus thus began the difficult process of teaching Davey Jones how to defend himself. The Pirates came along to each of these sessions and practiced their own skills. Davey could not help telling his friends about the practices, and when Jenning heard, he was instantly requesting of Albus that the Ravenclaws be allowed to partake. It ended up being a massive thirty student study group, but Albus made sure that his attentions were firmly focussed on making Davey a better dueller. He did not spend any time teaching any of the other first years. If they came to these sessions, Albus said at the very first gathering, they were to practice in small groups by themselves. Professor Fudge was still the DADA teacher, Albus said, and Albus was not going to do someone else's job for them.

When Albus was not busy teaching Davey or doing his homework by the fire of the Gryffindor common room, he was searching for an anti-jinx to the _Cardia Mortis _spell. Unfortunately, none was forthcoming from any of the DADA textbooks that he found in the library. In fact, with the help of William, Alabastor and Mars; Albus was able to access the Restricted Section of the library while his three friends distracted the librarian. To his intense dismay, Albus was unable to find the _Cardia Mortis_ spell in any of the books, not even those devoted to the Dark Arts!

'I think the spell is either too ancient to be included in any books,' Albus mused to his friends back in the common room, 'or too rare.'

'What if Noxious Black invented it himself?' William posed.

'No, Noxious said something about Professor Fudge teaching him how to use it,' Albus said.

'Maybe Professor Fudge invented it,' Mars said.

'No, Professor Black is the better wizard,' Alabastor said. 'If anyone invented it, it would have been him.'

'Then would Professor Black not simply have taught the spell to his own son himself?' Mars argued. 'Why would he get Professor Fudge to teach his son his own spell?'

Alabastor was just about to argue back, but Albus interjected.

'We do not even know whether one of them did invent it,' Albus said. 'All we know is that _Cardia Mortis_ is an extremely rare spell that sends a purple flame across the chest of its victim and causes damage to the heart.'

'Would a Shield charm do the trick?' William asked.

'Maybe,' Albus said, 'but how can we know that? I mean, for one thing a Shield charm is really advanced magic and I do not think even I could learn one in time, let alone teach it to Davey. I do not want to take chances like that.'

'Alright then,' Mars said; his green eyes deep in thought. 'So Defence against the Dark Arts will not help us here. But what else do we have that could help? Have you looked in your _A Better Way to Transfigure_ book? You really ought to use every resource you have at your disposal.'

Mars could not have given better advice. Albus was smilingly grateful at his friend's wisdom. He promptly pulled out the massive tome and laid the book out on his lap.

'I read somewhere once that giants and werewolves are partly immune to the spells thrown by dark wizards,' Albus said. 'Maybe I can learn to transfigure into a part-giant.'

'Yes, and get yourself expelled,' Mars said warningly. 'Besides, how do you expect Davey to perform magic like that?'

'I suppose you are right,' Albus said. He started leafing through the pages of _A Better Way to Transfigure_, trying to spot something that would help him.

A chapter heading caught his eye. _Avis Inimago Avis._ It was the chapter on how to transfigure a feather into the bird of that feather. Albus paused at this page, thinking hard. The other Pirates sensed that something dramatic was going on in his head.

'What is it, Albus?' Mars asked. 'Tell us what you are thinking.'

'I can transfigure a feather into an owl,' Albus said, somewhat distractedly. The other boys looked at each other and shrugged.

'What good is an owl going to do?' William asked.

'Not an owl,' Albus said; a light dawning on his face. He broke out into his brightest grin and said, 'a phoenix.'

'You, transfigure a feather into a phoenix?' Alabastor spluttered. 'Not likely.'

'Surely not, Albus,' William said, ruffling his dark hair in that affectionate way of his. 'That is truly advanced magic. I barely think anyone alive would ever have achieved such a feat!'

'Nobody alive has ever achieved it,' Albus said cautiously, 'because nobody alive has ever had a phoenix feather to try and perform _Avis Inimago Avis_ on! I own a phoenix, I bet you I can get a feather off Fawkes and use it.'

'You sent Fawkes away, did you not?' William said.

'He is staying in the Everliving Oak I planted for him,' Albus said. 'I will sneak into the Forbidden Forest sometime this weekend and visit him.'

'Very well,' Mars said; his green eyes perceptively sharp, 'but what good will turning a feather into a phoenix do?'

'It will protect Davey,' Albus said. 'If I have to battle Noxious myself, I can trust Fawkes to dive in and protect me from a _Cardia Mortis_. But Fawkes will probably not sacrifice himself for Davey. So if I have to, I can turn a feather into a phoenix and it can take the _Cardia Mortis_ instead.'

'Wow!' William said. He looked elated. 'Albus, you know how you transfigured owls for all the people who lost them in the storm? Can you make me a pet phoenix?'

'You know I cannot do that,' Albus said chidingly. 'Those owls were temporary replacements. Animals transfigured from inanimate objects do not live nearly as long as real live animals. A transfigured phoenix would probably moult within a few days and then erupt into flame. It would not be reborn from the ashes.'

'I do not care!' William exclaimed. 'Being the owner of a phoenix for even a few days would be the most terrific feeling ever!'

Caught under the admiring gaze of his best friends, Albus realised exactly how lucky he was to have Fawkes as a pet. He gave William a genuinely warm smile and promised to transfigure a pet phoenix for him when he had the chance.

'You know, having a phoenix to take the _Cardia Mortis_ for Davey is a great idea and all,' Mars said, 'but you know that Noxious could try the spell a second time. Or even a third time if he missed. You need a better protection than that.'

'You are right,' Albus said. He pounded his brain for an answer. The library had failed him, his own _A Better Way to Transfigure_ had failed him, and he was running empty on ideas himself. But Mars had been correct: Albus needed to use all the resources he had. He pulled out a sheaf of parchment and wrote a letter to Archaeon.

_Dearest father,_

_I am under threat from the _Cardia Mortis_ spell. Can you please send me the instructions for a counter-curse? I fear that it may be used against me._

_Your loving son,_

_Albus_

Archaeon's reply by Cleopatra the owl came two days later, landing in Albus' porridge. Cleopatra had stopped landing next to Albus after he had harvested a dozen feathers from her when he had been transfiguring owls for all the people who needed new ones. Albus wiped the porridge from the scroll and opened it. It was a very brief note.

_To my dear son Albus,_

_There is no such incantation. Whomever you heard of it from is probably a poor source. Your exams are coming up and I want you to concentrate on doing well in them._

_Your father,_

_Archaeon_

'That is no help to us,' William said. He had been reading over Albus' shoulder.

'Maybe your father is right,' Mars said. 'Noxious could have been talking rubbish.'

'That is true,' Albus admitted, 'but I would rather take the cautious route. Maybe Professor Fudge or Professor Black did come up with the _Cardia Mortis_. I am going to have to find some sort of blanket protection for Davey and myself.'

'Who are you going to ask?' Alabastor said. 'You seem to be running out of options.'

'I have two left,' Albus said, 'Professor Prewett and Fawkes.'

Albus approached Professor Prewett after Charms class later that day. The elderly witch with her monocle and straight grey hair had a harassed look about her. She had been trying to teach the first years how to charm a spinning top to spin in both directions simultaneously, a simple enough trick but one that had given the Hufflepuffs an inordinate amount of trouble. Poor Professor Prewett had nearly torn out her monocle after explaining the charm ten times to the Hufflepuffs.

'Excuse me, Professor?' Albus said politely, once all the other first years had left the class.

'What is it?' Professor Prewett snapped, not looking up from her desk.

'I just wanted to ask you something, Professor,' Albus said. 'But if you are in a bad mood, I will come back later.'

'How dare …' began Professor Prewett. She looked up, her face screwed up into a look of terrible rage. It softened into a partly amused, partly annoyed look when she saw that Albus was the one talking. She said, 'mind your manners, Dumbledore. I remain your housemistress and your teacher, not your mate.'

'Sorry, Professor,' Albus said. He grinned cheekily and added, 'but you were being very short with me, and I learned my reverse spinning charm first thing.'

'Detention for rudeness, Dumbledore,' Professor Prewett said, not hiding a smile. Albus grinned back. The Gryffindor first years were having a second term of "detention" with Professor Prewett, in which she taught them Defence against the Dark Arts. She got up and walked over to the window, beckoning that Albus join her. She said, 'so what is it, Dumbledore?'

'Professor,' Albus said, weighing his words very carefully, 'I have heard about a spell called _Cardia Mortis_ and I am worried that No… someone will use it against me or some of the other first years. I need to know how to protect myself against it, but none of the textbooks say anything about it.'

'Hmm,' Professor Prewett said. She peered down at Albus through her monocle. 'I myself have never heard of such a spell.'

'Neither has my father,' Albus said.

'Oh, well in that case,' Professor Prewett said, 'it probably does not exist. You can rest easy around young Mr Black, I assure you. I rather doubt that he knows how to perform a dark spell even at first year level, let alone something that sounds as dangerous as a _Cardia Mortis_ spell.'

Albus had not meant to start saying Noxious' name, but Professor Prewett was so sharp that she would probably have figured it out anyway. He excused himself from Professor Prewett's classroom, more worried than before. Noxious might be fairly useless at magic, but Albus did not doubt for one second that he might be capable of learning a dark spell from Professor Fudge. There was no other option left. Albus had to sneak into the Forbidden Forest to get a feather off Fawkes and ask the phoenix if it had any ideas as to how he could protect himself and Davey from the _Cardia Mortis._

That Saturday morning, while most of the school hid in their common rooms or the library studying for exams, and a few Ravenclaws braved a squall to practice for the upcoming Gryffindor Ravenclaw Quidditch match, Albus snuck down to the Forbidden Forest, relying on luck more than anything that nobody would see him. Lady Luck was obviously riding with him, because he reached the oddly comforting shelter of the trees without attracting any trouble.

Albus made his way through the outer reaches of the Forbidden Forest with ease. He was small and could negotiate his way through the trees without much trouble. He knew of a path that led to where he had planted the Everliving Oak. Usually Albus had travelled to the Forbidden Forest by holding on to Fawkes' tail and apparating, but this time he had to walk. He could not call Fawkes to him until he gave the phoenix permission to come back to the castle, something he would have to do in the presence of the bird. He had, of course, told Fawkes not to come at his call because he feared that Professor Fudge wanted to _Adava Kedavra_ his phoenix in order to get it out of the way.

Albus knew that the Forbidden Forest was a dangerous place, so he had his wand out. But for some reason he felt safe. There was a warm feeling somewhere nearby. He wondered what it might be, until it occurred to him that he was probably being trailed by Fawkes! The phoenix must be following him and keeping him safe. It could not make its presence known until Albus came to the Everliving Oak and gave the phoenix permission to obey his call again.

Albus finally came to the clearing where he had planted the Everliving Oak just a few short months before. His growth enhancing charms had allowed the tree to shoot up and sprout four large branches which pushed against the canopy of the Forbidden Forest, searching for sunlight. The Everliving Oak was a slow-growing tree, and now that Albus' spells had worn off, it would take years to finally penetrate the canopy. It was an odd-looking tree. It had no foliage, and its bark had a greyish tinge. It looked for the entire world like it had died a horrible death, because its roots were gnarled and coiled like snakes, and it showed no sign of life. The only evidence that it was alive was that a single green leaf grew at the very tip of the uppermost branch.

Fawkes appeared in a burst of flame in the notch between the four branches at the top of the trunk. Albus climbed the tree to join Fawkes in his nest. The phoenix had created a nest made up entirely of bird feathers.

'You did not kill any birds to make this, did you?' said Albus; slightly alarmed.

Fawkes shook his handsome head.

'I have come to tell you that you can return to Hogwarts,' Albus said, 'but I still want you to be careful. Remember, if Professor Fudge gets wind that you are back in my possession, then he will come and kill you.'

Fawkes' eyes conveyed to Albus that he understood this.

'The second thing, Fawkes, is that I need to know how to protect myself and Davey Jones from the _Cardia Mortis_ spell,' Albus said. 'I think that Noxious Black is going to use it on both of us. How can I do it?'

Fawkes turned around and presented his tail feathers for Albus to take hold of. Albus knew that he was about to be taken to his answer.

An instant later Albus had been whirled into the Restricted Section of the library. Fawkes pecked at a book entitled_ Moste Potente Potions_. Albus opened it and Fawkes used his beak to turn the pages until they had found the relevant section.

Albus stared at the heading on the page and realised that he ought to have thought of this a long time ago.

_Protective Potion for Children_

_For the protection of innocent children the magyk required is derived from the powers of the Birch tree. The crafting of this potion is moste intricate …_

Albus cast his eye down a list that included some items that would surely never land in the hands of a first year student. Fortunately, Fawkes communicated to him that he would take him to the Potions Mistress's storage cupboard so that he could fetch them. Albus grinned. The Protective Potion derived from a Birch tree would be ready in forty days, just in time for the end of exams and Davey's impending duel with Noxious Black. All that remained in between was that Albus perform some very careful and skilled potions. Nothing could be easier.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you to my reviewers. I am getting excited now because this story is about to head into its climactic chapters. I will not reveal how many chapters are left, because I do not actually know myself, but I can guarantee that there are a minimum of a half-dozen chapters left. I am writing this book very much in the mould of _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_; a book about a boy's first year at Hogwarts ending with a dramatic conclusion. Keep on sending me feedback, because it is helpful to know what you are or aren't enjoying about this story. 


	17. Quidditch and Exams

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"School would be the best time of our lives … if it weren't for exams"

* * *

Chapter 17 – Quidditch and Exams

The days grew steadily longer and the Hogwarts grounds steadily warmer as summer approached. The muddy grey sludge that had covered the grounds in March melted away and in its place grew fresh green grass. Butterflies were to be seen flitting about the flowerbeds that the Herbology teacher, Professor Longbottom and the groundskeeper, Romulus Lupin had planted with tender care and a few magical spells to ensure that the April frosts did no damage to them. The sun shone warm through the windows of the castle, but that did little to alleviate the sense of gloom that engulfed Hogwarts. Examinations were nearly upon them.

Albus was, for once, under strain and showing it. Where he had previously been unconcerned by the exams, his father's letter instructing him to do well in them had put pressure on him. Archaeon was the one person Albus strove to impress above any other, even above Victoria Moody. Not to mention that Albus was busy making the most complicated potion he had ever had to concoct.

The Protective Potion for children was so intricate that Albus had to stir it seven times clockwise on the stroke of midday and midnight every day. He had to add ingredients nightly; and twice had to cool the potion and reheat it at the rising of two different full moons. It was fortunate that all the Pirates knew about the Potion, because Albus could leave it in the boys' bedroom without fear of someone finding it and tampering with it. Besides, Fawkes seemed quite happy to sit beside it, crooning away. Albus did not know it, but the intelligent bird occasionally squeezed out a tear into the potion.

On top of his daily potion-stirring and fretting about Davey Jones' forthcoming duel with Noxious Black, Albus had to study for the exams. He spent hours pouring over _A Better Way to Transfigure_ and Mars' copy of _Charm Your Peers_, and further hours scribbling away on his scrolls and practicing charm after defensive jinx after charm. It did not help that all nine of the other Pirates were constantly coming over to Albus's leatherback chair and asking for help. If it was not Elizabeth Figg asking, 'Albus, can you please show me how to levitate the couch?' it was Alabastor Meadowes asking, 'Albus, can you please explain your star charts to me?'

Eventually, Albus grew so fed up with his friends that he lost his temper. He was immersed in his History of Magic notes, reading about the Doctrine of the Founders of Hogwarts, when someone came up to him holding a piece of parchment. The person began to speak.

'Albus, can …'

'AARGH!' screamed Albus, throwing his History of Magic notes in the air so they scattered all across the Gryffindor common room. He got to his feet and made for the door, yelling 'AARGH!' all the way. The inhabitants of Gryffindor common room could still hear his anguished cries when he was halfway across two corridors and down a flight of stairs.

William Potter was heard to remark,

'You make such a good boggart, Victoria Moody.'

To which she was heard to reply,

'Oh stuff it up that silly hair of yours, Potter.'

It was Aberforth who found Albus a few hours later, sitting in the shade of a small yew tree beside the lake. Albus' straggling older brother with his messy hair and gangly limbs groaned as he sat down, his bones creaking like an old man's.

'Growing pains,' Aberforth complained.

'You are not still taking Quik-gro Solution, are you?' Albus said.

'How did you know about that?' Aberforth cried, at once turning pale.

'I guessed,' Albus said, remembering back to how Aberforth had grown several inches over the last summer holidays. 'I thought you must be up to something.'

'Well, I was short and scrawny like you last year,' Aberforth said hotly. 'I needed to help myself a long a bit.'

'No you did not,' Albus said, laughing a little. 'Mother and father are both tall people, you were bound to grow anyway.'

'Oh,' Aberforth said, looking like a dog that had just been denied a tasty bone. 'Er, you do not think that I might have overdone it? Like, I will not end up twenty feet tall like a half-giant, will I?'

'We will have to wait and see, won't we?' Albus said, smirking. Aberforth looked mortified. Albus quickly added, 'you can always ask father to reverse the effects. I am sure that he can.'

Aberforth wore a look of sheer terror. The entire colour had drained from his face, and even his scant freckles seemed to have disappeared.

'Are you completely bonkers, Albus?' gasped Aberforth. 'I would rather be a half-giant than admit to our father that I have been fooling around with Quik-gro!'

Albus laughed his first genuine laugh in weeks. His older brother had a habit of making him feel better when he was down.

'Anyway, here we are talking about me when I came to see about you,' Aberforth said sternly. 'What was with you today? The whole castle must have heard you screaming like a banshee. You set Peeves off and he's spent the whole afternoon pillaging the Slytherins in the library. Madam Cross was so cross that she had a fainting spell and had to be taken to the Hospital Wing. Almost all of the Restricted Section has been upturned by old Peevsie!'

Albus bent in half and laughed until he was paralysed by it. Tears poured down his happy face as his stomach clenched and unclenched with uncontrolled giggles. Peeves had done funnier things before, but in Albus' current state of mind it was utterly hilarious. Aberforth patted Albus' back while he had the fits.

'That is it, get out all the madness,' Aberforth crooned, chuckling to himself.

'I am … I am … not … mad,' Albus gasped. 'It is just … I … I have been a little under the weather lately. Father told me to do well in exams, and I …'

'Ah, so that is your affliction,' Aberforth said with an air of wisdom about him. 'I know all about our father's little instructions. He sent you a one line letter telling you not to waste your energies on something else, and that he wants you to concentrate on the exams, didn't he?'

It was Albus' turn to say,

'How did you know?'

'Because I get one just like it every year,' Aberforth explained. 'In first year I had written to him telling him about how I had learned to beat the other first years at gobstones. He sent me a letter saying "Aberforth, stop wasting your time on such pursuits and start preparing for your examinations." Last year I wrote to him telling him that I had learned how to tickle the pear and get into the kitchen for midnight feasts. He replied with, "Aberforth, you are a right little thief and I will give you a hiding when you get home. In the meantime, you had better be studying for your exams." I have learned not to tell our father about my exploits here at Hogwarts.'

'What about this year?' Albus asked.

'This year, the letter said, "Aberforth, study – or else." He did not even sign it with his name!'

Albus let out another spell of giggles.

'The point is, little brother,' said Aberforth, 'not to let father's letters bother you. Besides, it isn't like you are about to fail now, is it?'

'I guess not,' Albus said, smiling at Aberforth. 'Just make sure you have enough Butterbeers for the after-exam celebrations, okay?'

'What am I made for?' Aberforth said. He and Albus got up, dusted their robes of grass seeds and made their way back up to Hogwarts Castle. Aberforth stopped dead in his tracks about halfway there, holding one finger up.

'What is it?' Albus asked, drawing his wand.

'I will just need to borrow a certain pet of yours before the examinations are over,' Aberforth said.

'Oh,' Albus said, putting his wand away and relaxing. He grinned, 'of course. Just make sure you bring a few Firewhiskies for Professor Prewett, will you?'

'Naturally,' Aberforth said; a wicked grin on his dial.

* * *

There was one distraction from all the studying, which unfortunately did little to ease the tension filling the halls of Hogwarts. The final Quidditch matches of the season took place a few weekends before the exams were held. Hufflepuff played Slytherin first; in a match that Slytherin would normally have been expected to win by four hundred points. But Peeves had been steadfastly obedient to Albus' instructions and the Slytherins had been unable to get one decent practice in since the poltergeist had arrived at Hogwarts. So Hufflepuff turned on the upset of the century and defeated Slytherin by one hundred and fifty to one hundred and thirty when their Seeker snatched the Golden Snitch from in front of the Slytherin Seeker's nose. This left Slytherin in the undesirable position of last on the House Championship, to the obvious displeasure of Professors Fudge and Black, and the glee of the other three houses.

The match that most concerned the school was Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor, a match that would decide both the House Quidditch Cup and the House Championship. The residents of Gryffindor Tower spent most of the night before the match with their parchment and quills out, scribbling out all the possible connotations of the match. Ravenclaw had amassed a tally of 640-200 combined in their two matches against Hufflepuff and Slytherin, while Gryffindor had managed a tally of 670-120. While Gryffindor had an advantage on paper, Ravenclaw only needed to win to claim the Quidditch Cup. Three wins against two would trump any point advantage Gryffindor might have. In terms of the House Championship, Gryffindor had an edge, but the size of their victory or defeat could swing the result in either direction. It promised to be a nail-biting match.

Albus was relieved to be in the stands with his fellow Pirates, instead of on a broom, competing for House honour. He would never forget his victory over Slytherin, but preferred the safety of the stands to the dangers of being hit by a Bludger or an opposition Beater's bat.

'Go Gryffindor Go!' screamed the girls beside him. Albus, Mars, William, Alabastor and Edward preferred not to cheer, but could not help whooping when a flash of scarlet and gold in the air signalled the arrival of the Gryffindor team.

'Go Gryffindor Go!' whistled a hoarse voice. William gave a shriek and fell off his seat. Nearly Headless Nick had just ascended through the floor and "seated" his ghostly self in amongst the first years.

'And look at them go!' bellowed the commentator, the fourth year Ravenclaw Ron Lovegood, 'Shaftesbury the Keeper; Jones, Ipswich, Eades the Chasers; Malkin and Pettigrew the Beaters and Glastonbury the Seeker!'

Albus let his emotions take over and he let out a hearty cheer.

'Go Glastonbury!' he cried. 'Go Gryffindor! Go Jones!'

Albus had special reason to root for Glastonbury. The sixth year had nearly died because of Caretaker Umbridge's punishment of hanging him upside down by the toes on the orders of Professor Fudge. That had been why Albus had had to take his place in the Gryffindor team. It was good to see the rightful Seeker back in the team.

Madam Cross blew on her whistle to start the game. Albus' neck was craned to see what was happening in the air above him. He did not notice a distant figure pointing an arm in his general direction. A sudden rush of wind tore Albus' pointed hat from his head and sent it sailing over the edge of the stands.

'Someone tried to hex me!' Albus cried, dropping to the ground and clutching his head where the hat had been. The Pirates piled around, trying to protect him from any further jinxes. William strained his neck over his shoulder to see where it had come from.

'The Slytherins,' William said. 'Anyone want to bet on Black?'

'Very likely,' Albus said. 'I do not think he will try it again during the match, but help me keep an eye out. I swear he is trying to get me angry so that I challenge him to a duel.'

'Why don't you?' Alabastor said rashly. 'Show him some real magic and reduce him to a blubbering pulp!'

'That is what he wants!' cried Albus. 'Or at least, what his father wants: an excuse to expel me from Hogwarts. My father is too important for Professor Black to get away with expelling me for no reason at all. But if I duel Noxious and hex him to pieces, then Professor Black will have a reason, won't he?'

Alabastor had the sense to look abashed. Albus straightened his robe and stood up.

'Now, what is happening in the match?' he asked.

Dozens of students in crimson and gold were streaming onto the pitch, headed for where the seven Gryffindor players had dismounted their brooms. Albus saw that Glastonbury had something golden in his hands. He had caught the Golden Snitch inside the first minute of the game.

'WE WON!' the Pirates yelled, leaping into a tumultuous group hug and then following the other Gryffindors onto the pitch. In the absence of Professor Black, who had not even turned up to the match, Madam Cross handed the sparkling golden cup to Thomas Jones, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. Albus was cheering along with the rest of the first years near the back of the throng when a pair of strong hands grabbed him and pulled him to the front.

'You're as much a part of this as the rest of us,' said Jonathan Glastonbury, leading Albus to where the rest of the team were gathered. 'You helped us beat Slytherin. Without you, Ravenclaw would have won the Cup.'

Albus smiled meekly, shook hands with Thomas and took his turn holding the majestic golden cup. He felt a flood of happiness overcoming him. Gryffindor had done it. Slytherin's reign was now, officially, over.

Any celebrating that the Gryffindors might have wanted to do was quickly abated by the prospect of exams. Albus did not join in on the muted celebrations orchestrated by Aberforth. Instead, Albus went to bed early planning to spend all Sunday studying. Even Aberforth seemed tempered by the thought of exams, and by midnight the Gryffindor common room was as quiet as if everyone had upped and left for the summer holidays.

* * *

Exam week rolled around and Albus began to find it difficult to eat anything at breakfast. As usual it was Victoria who admonished him with cries of, 'you're thin enough already,' and 'Eat your breakfast or you'll evaporate into a ghost.' All this was lost on Albus. The only things in his head (besides a quiet reminder to himself to stir the Protective Potion seven times clockwise at midday) were spells and facts and jinxes and hexes and definitions and star charts.

The first exam was Herbology. Albus had no trouble describing the properties of birch and correctly demonstrating how to plant a birch seed. In the afternoon the first years had History of Magic. Albus had completed nine feet of parchment when Professor Prewett's hourglass ran empty for the third time and she called an end to the exam. William was particularly horrified by this, having only written two feet himself.

'I have big handwriting,' Albus explained.

'So have I,' William said miserably, trudging off to dinner alone.

'You lie,' Mars said. 'You have small, neat handwriting.'

'I know,' Albus said, 'but I had to try and make William feel better somehow.'

The following day saw the first years sitting the two subjects they liked the least: Potions and Defence against the Dark Arts. Albus had no difficulty with his concoctions and writing out a detailed description of the properties of each ingredient. It was a nasty exam from Professor Rookwood, who rarely bothered to explain anything in her classes, but Albus had seen enough of Moste Potente Potions in the past few months to be able to answer most of it. The other Pirates were less fortunate, however, and arrived at the Defence against the Dark Arts exams looking pale-faced and beaten.

Professor Prewett had taught the Gryffindor first years well in their regular "detentions" with her, so no matter what Professor Fudge threw at them, none of them flinched or had second thoughts about what defensive jinx to use. The success of the Gryffindors made Professor Fudge's bulldog face bloat like a dead pig and by the end of it his eyes were red with fury.

'Get out, you vermin!' he snarled at last. The Gryffindors took this to mean that they had all passed, and went to dinner wearing grins and looks of immense relief.

'I am surprised he did not try to use _Cardia Mortis_ on you, Albus,' William joked.

'He does not want me to know that he or Professor Black invented it,' Albus said, 'because I would just tell my father. But thanks for reminding me anyway. The Protective Potion will be ready at the full moon tonight, and we need to drink it.'

'We?' said Mars. 'I thought it was just for you and Davey Jones.'

'I cannot trust Noxious Black,' Albus said. 'If he cannot get me to duel him by hurting Davey, then he might try jinxing you lot as well. All eleven of us will drink from the Protective Potion tonight. I have made enough for all of us to last twenty four hours. Exams end tomorrow, so Davey has no choice but to duel Noxious then. He will be under the protection of the Potion until midnight tomorrow.'

'I think you forgot something, Albus,' Victoria said. 'We have the Astronomy exam tonight. How are we going to drink the potion at the full moon if we are in an exam?'

'The full moon rises at one o'clock, just as our exams finishes,' Albus said; smiling. 'We share Astronomy with the Hufflepuffs, so Davey will be with us. We will drink it then.'

The Pirates seemed to share Albus' confidence, and they were not disappointed when, after a fairly easy Astronomy exam labelling stars and their courses on a map of the skies, the moon rose above the Forbidden Forest and Albus distributed flasks of Protective Potion amongst the Pirates and Davey Jones. All eleven drank the silvery, silky liquid at the same time.

'That tasted brilliant!' William exclaimed. 'Can I have some more?'

'No,' Albus said; pointing at his empty cauldron. 'Anyway, we ought to hurry on back to Gryffindor Tower.'

Albus waited until the nine Pirates had started on their way back to Gryffindor before he turned to face Davey. His mousy-haired friend looked paler than a ghost in the dim corridor light.

'Good luck tomorrow, Davey,' Albus said. 'Just remember all the spells I have taught you, and remember, with the Protective Potion, Noxious cannot seriously hurt you.'

'Thank you Albus,' Davey said, relief washing over his face. 'I hope I win tomorrow so you can get your ten galleons.'

'Noxious will never pay me back,' Albus said. 'All I care about is that you prove to him that muggle-borns and half-bloods are every bit as good as pure-blooded wizards. Good night!'

The morning after saw the first years sit their Transfiguration exam. _A Better Way to Transfigure_ had made Albus by far and away the best in this class, and he had completed all his practical and written tasks before Jenning Ranger of Ravenclaw had even managed to turn his mouse into a bona-fide teacup. Professor Leon Bones gave Albus an exasperated look and told him to create a few owls to keep him busy.

The final exam was Charms, to be sat that afternoon. None of the Gryffindors wanted to let Professor Prewett down after she had spent so much time helping them that year. They did not let her down, and she was pleasantly surprised when all ten the Pirates levitated their exam parchments, made them flap their edges and sing like birds, before fluttering to a landing on her desk at the end of the exam.

'Thank you, Gryffindors,' Professor Prewett said, rubbing the edge of her monocle. Albus was suspicious that she had just shed a tear. She quickly blinked it away and swooped on the Hufflepuffs to collect their parchments. She dismissed them to a wave of cheers and cries of 'let's hit the sunshine!'

The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff first years formed a pack of twenty as they marched through the Entrance Hall, out the Main Entrance and into the blazing summer sunshine. Albus was not in the least bit surprised to find that the ten first year Slytherins were standing in a line facing them on the grassy expanse in front of the entrance. What did surprise Albus was the presence of at least a hundred onlookers from all four houses. Noxious must have spread the word.

'Step forward, Davey Jones,' said the sneering voice of Noxious Black. The dark haired, dark eyed son of the Headmaster, stepped forward himself into what appeared to be a duelling corridor created by the rows of onlookers on either side. 'Step forward and let me show you why blood is important in magic.'

'Oh he will show you,' Albus called out loudly, 'that blood is entirely unimportant in magic. Go on, Davey. And remember Noxious, when you lose, you owe me ten galleons according to our bet.'

The crowd let out a collective "ooh".

'When you scrape Jones off the mud,' Noxious said viciously, 'you will be giving me ten galleons, you muggle-loving fool!'

The crowd let out a collective "aah".

Davey stepped forward, dwarfed by all the older students crowding around. The Pirates joined the audience. Albus stood closest to Davey, his hand clutching his wand underneath his robes. He hoped with all his might that he had made the Protective Potion properly.

'Are you ready, muggle?' Noxious spat.

'Are you ready, prat?' Davey retorted, showing far more bravery than Albus would have credited him with.

Noxious' face went red. Incensed, he stepped forward and cried,

'One, two, three …'

* * *

Authors Note: Sorry to be horrible and leave you with a cliff-hanger, but the duel deserves a chapter of its own.

I would like to comment on the use of familiar family names. Some reviewers seem annoyed by this, but I figured that, as JK Rowling has said before, the magical world is very small in number. The same family names would feature generation after generation. Furthermore, I am trying to explain why Dumbledore is so loyal to the Potters, the Moodys, the Lupins and the Longbottoms of this world in the 20th Century. If Albus was friends with their ancestors, he would be more inclined to give someone like Harry or Mad-Eye Moody special treatment. Also why, in the absence of any kind of romance as far as JK Rowling as revealed, Albus Dumbledore has Minerva McGonagal as his deputy.

Also, some people have voiced displeasure at how I portray the Slytherins in such a bad light, and how Albus "dislikes" them. I clearly had Albus voice a desire to make friends with Slytherins, something which is only denied him by the fact that his number one enemy is Noxious Black, the most influential first year in Slytherin. By no means do I intend to portray all Slytherins as horrible. I am just using Noxious, Professors Fudge and Black as my villains, and they happen to be associated with positions of power and Slytherin. All Slytherins desire power, remember! If I end up writing about Albus' second year at Hogwarts, I will make a deliberate effort to improve the image of Slytherin House.

Again, thanks to the many loyal reviewers and fans that have come to enjoy my story. I write this for you and your enjoyment. I apologise for the two week delay in updating, but I have been very busy of late. I hope to update slightly more frequently as we come to the end of this first stage in Albus' life at Hogwarts.


	18. The Duels

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"In combat man is reduced to the very basest of human emotions"

* * *

Chapter 18 – The Duels

'_Impedimenta!_' cried Noxious, sending the first jinx of the duel straight at Davey Jones, who was entirely unprepared for it. Davey was on his back before he could even lift his wand in reaction. Albus, who stood nearest to Davey, cried out to him.

'Get up Davey!' he yelled. Albus did not know whether to feel surprised that Noxious had not started off with the _Cardia Mortis_ curse, or anxious that the Protective Potion was somehow not doing its job. He looked up at Noxious, who was strutting around in front of his admiring Slytherin audience, a smirk plastered all over his face.

'_Conjuctiva!_' yelled Noxious, lashing his wand in Davey's direction again. Soon the poor Welsh boy's eyes were bright red and streaming. He tried furiously to rub them clean, but this only made the spell worse.

'I taught you the counter-curse, use it!' Albus hissed under his breath. Davey looked up at Albus, his face desperate. He pointed the wand at his face, but Noxious, sensing what was about to happen, sent another hex at Davey.

'_Expelliarmus!'_ cried Noxious. Davey's wand flew out of his hand, hit someone in the audience on the chest and bounced back on to the grass, a few feet from where Davey crouched. Davey started crawling towards the wand, but Noxious had other intentions. Noxious cried, _'Petrificus totalus!'_ The body-binding curse snapped Davey's legs into two straight poles and his arms were equally fixed to his sides. Davey lay totally immobile except for his eyes, which darted frantically from Noxious to Albus and back.

'Look at the foolish muggle!' Noxious proclaimed loudly to the crowd. A number of Slytherins gave derisive chuckles and murmurs of approval. Buoyed, Noxious went on to say, 'I have hit him four times and he cannot even use a counter-curse to defend himself. Is this your champion, Albus Dumbledore?'

Albus was fighting the urge to interfere in the duel. He was standing apart from the two rows of people watching the duel, so any attempt to unlock Davey's limbs would be seen by everyone. Why was the Protective Potion not working? Albus racked his brains, searching for a day when he might have forgotten to stir the blasted thing seven times clockwise at midday, but he was absolutely certain he had followed the instructions in _Moste Potente Potions_ to the letter.

'We are all wasting our time here,' Noxious said casually, still strutting backwards and forwards at the end of the duelling corridor. 'I really ought to finish him off … put him out of his misery.'

Albus knew what was coming and there was nothing he could do to stop it without drawing himself irrevocably into the duel.

'_Cardia Mortis!'_ yelled Noxious, delivering a complicated swirl of his wand in the direction of Davey's motionless body.

The audience let out a gasp as a purple flame seemed to arc in slow motion towards Davey Jones. Albus clenched his eyes, not wanting to witness the horror unfolding. Just then a terrific boom sounded and Albus' eyes popped open. A misty, silvery shield had materialised out of thin air and blocked the spell, which rebounded. Noxious had to dive out of the way to avoid the whip of purple flame. Fortunately there were no onlookers standing directly behind him (it was a regularly observed practice to have nobody standing behind the two duellers, as there were many instances in recorded magical history where an innocent bystander had caught the full brunt of a slightly misguided dueller's curse).

'How did he do that?' Noxious roared, leaping to his feet and glaring at Davey. 'He has no wand and he is bound by the _Petrificus Totalus_ curse! Who conjured that shield?'

The shield had evaporated by now. Albus let go of his wand in his pocket and spread his two hands wide, as if to show that he had nothing to do with it. Several pairs of suspicious Slytherin eyes were aimed in his direction.

'Nobody interfere!' Noxious snapped. 'I am going to win this, by all the rules of fair duelling.' He stepped forward, directing his wand at Davey with a look of intense rage in his dark eyes. He yelled, '_Cardia Mortis!'_

Once again a purple flame lashed out from the end of his wand and arced toward Davey. Once again, a misty, silvery shield appeared out of nowhere and a terrific gong note sounded. The purple flame rebounded and this time Noxious' wizarding hat was ripped off by the spell. He had only just ducked in time. Albus was reminded of losing his hat whilst watching the Quidditch match yesterday.

Noxious did not seem to be learning from the experience. Enraged, he was only on his knees when he screamed _'Cardia Mortis!_' again. As the purple flame arced towards the shield and then boomed out as it reflected back on Noxious, Albus whipped out his wand. In the audience's confusion, Albus had time to disable the _Petrificus Totalus _curse on Davey.

Davey scrambled forwards to grab hold of his wand. His blue eyes seemed to glint with a newfound resolve, now that Albus' Protective Potion had demonstrated its effectiveness. The effects of Noxious' _Conjuctiva_ curse seemed to have worn off. Noxious was still staggering to his feet from another near miss when Davey hit him with his first spell.

'_Rictusempra!'_ cried Davey. Noxious was hit by the tickling spell in the mid-riff. He fell to the grass, laughing hysterically. He clutched at his sides and tears streamed from his eyes. Albus noted that it was rare for him to feel pleased about Noxious being so happy. Davey was finally putting up a fight.

'_Furnunculus,'_ said Davey calmly, rising to his feet as he hexed Noxious again. Boils started sprouting all over Noxious' face. His laughter quickly died away as his hands too became infested with large, glowing yellow boils.

'_Densaugeo,'_ said Davey. Noxious' two front teeth started growing past his lips like a rabbit's. They grew longer and longer until the fangs were scratching at his chest.

'_Tarantallegra!'_ yelled Noxious, desperately flinging a hex back at Davey. To Albus' distinct pleasure, Davey deflected the curse. The audience had a good laugh as Aberforth, the unlucky recipient of the deflection, started dancing uncontrollably. Aberforth carried on for some time, and his motions became increasingly frantic, to the point where Albus had to wonder whether Aberforth wasn't maybe putting it on a bit for the sake of a laugh from the audience.

Noxious managed to produce the counter-curse to Davey's _Densaugeo,_ and the _Furnunculus _curse seemed to wear off. But Davey was in control of the duel now, and hit Noxious square on the chest with a well cast _'Impedimenta!'_

Noxious flew backwards, landing hard on the grassy earth. Davey followed up swiftly. He cried, _'Expelliarmus!'_ and sent Noxious' wand sailing away at least thirty feet. Albus noticed Frederick Bode hastening to fetch the wand, but the duel had been won. Davey walked up and stood over Noxious, pointing his wand at his defeated opponent's chest.

'Do you surrender?' asked Davey.

Noxious looked like he would rather swallow vomit than admit defeat, but he did not respond with a retort either. A throng of Hufflepuff first, second and third years closed in on Davey, dragging him away from Noxious in a mass of celebration. Albus could barely see his little friend through all the hands that were trying to scruff up Davey's already messy shag of hair.

Albus joined the other nine Gryffindor first years, knowing that Noxious' next move would be to challenge him to a duel.

'Davey showed him, didn't he?' William enthused.

'Yes he did,' Albus said rapidly, 'but we have to get inside, now, before Noxious tries to duel me or Professor Black comes out and blames me for something.'

The Gryffindors turned to follow the mass of Hufflepuffs back to the castle. Just then a cry rang out from behind them.

'_Cardia Mortis!'_

The ten Gryffindors turned in unison to see a purple flame erupting from the end of Noxious' wand and arcing across the thirty feet between them. There was a moment of open-mouthed silence before ten silvery shields appeared and sounded a marvellous, unified 'GONG!' in defence of the Pirates. The purple flame whipped back and for the fourth time Noxious had to dive out of the way.

'Quit attacking people from behind their back!' cried an older Gryffindor student. The Hufflepuffs turned and joined in the collective braying and hissing at Noxious' blatant cheating.

'I do not care what you all say!' yelled Noxious, his face beetroot red. 'Albus Dumbledore, quit hiding behind your friends and face up to me!'

'No, Noxious, I will not,' Albus called back. 'The deal was a duel between Davey Jones and yourself. Davey won, and you lost. That means you owe me ten galleons. Now if you do not mind, we are going to celebrate the end of exams.'

Noxious looked ready to explode. Albus actually felt a wave of fear crossing over his chest. In this sort of mood, someone as desperate as Noxious could not be trusted not to do something exceedingly rash … which he did.

'You surely cannot be protecting everyone you love!' Noxious spat. He turned his wand on a crowd of Gryffindors. Albus felt his stomach clenching into a fist of iron-hard pain. Noxious cried, _'Cardia Mortis!'_

A wave of purple flame shot out and struck Aberforth directly on the chest. His hands went straight to his chest and he let out an ear-wrenching scream of pain. A moment later and Aberforth had hit the deck, blacked out.

'THAT IS IT!' raged Albus, pushing past the desperate grasps of his friends, who tried to hold him back, but he threatened them with his wand and they let go. 'I have had it with you, Noxious Black!'

'Ready to fight, are we?' Noxious snorted, but his ardour had cooled and his eyes were weary. Still, he was not ready for Albus.

'_Expelliarmus!'_ yelled Albus. '_Petrificus totalus! Pinna majoris! Conjuctiva! Furnunculus! Densaugeo! Rictusempra!'_

The throng of students gasped at the audacity and brilliance of the auburn-haired first year. In ten swift seconds Albus had Noxious disarmed, trapped in a body-bind, shaking from side to side in a fit of laughter which conflicted with the body-bind spell, streaming tears from painfully red eyes, covered in hideous yellow boils and growing ears longer than his legs and teeth that were growing past his knees. Albus did not look twice to see what had become of Noxious. He ran straight towards Aberforth's fallen body.

'Aberforth,' Albus said; frantically patting his brother's cheeks. Annabel Polkiss was on her knees beside him, shedding tears and moaning. Albus kept on calling out, 'Aberforth! Wake up for me, big brother!'

Suddenly there was a flash of flame and Fawkes had materialised out of thin air. The magnificent golden and crimson phoenix leaned over Aberforth's chest and squeezed out three pearly tears. Within moments Aberforth was sitting up, coughing and spluttering.

'Aberforth, are you alright?' Albus cried, shaking his brother's shoulder.

'As fine and dandy as wine and candy,' Aberforth joked. He gave a wink and a wince. Albus smiled. Aberforth must be alright if he was cracking jokes. Albus turned to the gang of worried third years standing around them.

'Will you take him up to the Hospital Wing?' he asked. The third years nodded and lifted a protesting Aberforth up on to their shoulders. Fawkes flew alongside them, apparently wanting to accompany Aberforth back to the castle. Albus realised that Aberforth's need must be greater than his at that moment.

That is, until Victoria let out an anguished shriek.

'Albus; look out!' she cried.

It was too late. A spell hit Albus on the back and he flew forward, landing flat on his face. He spun on to his back and searched for his attacker with the point of his wand. A quick survey revealed that Noxious' nine mates in Slytherin had their wands out and were duelling with the Pirates. In fact, a horde of older Slytherins whipped out their wands and started quarrelling with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws who were still hanging around outside. Albus knew that it was foolish to get any further involved in the fracas, but the thought of Victoria getting boils or something from a _Furnunculus _curse spurned him into action.

Albus hastened forward to join the Pirates, who had formed a line facing the Slytherin first years.

'_Expelliarmus!'_ he cried languidly. '_Furnunculus! Densaugeo!'_

Albus quickly stopped hexing the Slytherin first years. His fellow Gryffindors were going a good enough job already without him. Soon all nine of the Slytherins were running away orparalysed under body-binds or writhing around in laughter.

'Come, we had better get out of here fast,' Albus said, drawing his friends together, 'or we'll be …'

'IMMOBILIS CENSUS!' roared Professor Black from the top of the steps leading to the massive Hogwarts entrance. All the hundred or so participants in the mass duel were rendered temporarily motionless by Professor Black's sweeping spell. He stormed to the centre of the melee, yelling without taking one breath. 'I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS AUDACITY! I SEE HUFFLEPUFFS HEXING SLYTHERINS! I SEE RAVENCLAWS HEXING SLYTHERINS! I SEE GRYFFINDORS HEXING SLYTHERINS! I SEE THREE HOUSES GANGING UP ON ONE!'

Here Professor Black's voice dropped to a soft, deadly tone.

'Four hundred points from Gryffindor,' he said, 'four hundred from Ravenclaw, and four hundred from Hufflepuff. Now you will ALL head back to …'

Professor Black's face went paler than it already was. The difference between his pitch black hair and his vapid white face was dramatic. He had caught sight of the writhing mass that was his son, Noxious. Noxious' teeth had now extended past his toes, his ears were about ten feet long and there was not a part of him that was not covered with hideous boils.

'Who did this?' asked Professor Black in a deathly quiet voice.

All the Slytherins (who had seemed to evade the effects of the _Immobilis Census_ spell), raised their arms and pointed directly at Albus.

'Albus Dumbledore, your time at Hogwarts is at an end,' Professor Black said. A look of triumph seemed to cross his dark expression. He said, 'report immediately to my office. The rest of you are to return straight to your houses. If I catch anyone outside of his or her house today they can join Dumbledore on an early and permanent trip home.'

Albus wanted to vomit, cry, run away, choke and evaporate all at once. His father had given him one instruction above all others – do whatever it takes to avoid being expelled – and he had failed.

William, Victoria and his other friends all tried to show how sorry they felt with their eyes, but Albus could barely look at them through the gleam of water that covered his own eyes. He watched as the deflated Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor students marched back to the castle. Albus could not believe what a disaster this was. Not only had he gotten himself expelled, thereby setting up whatever nefarious scheme Professor Black had in store for him, but Slytherin had been restored to the lead in the House Championship! It had all been for nought – the Pirates pranks, the introduction of Peeves, the Quidditch – everything Albus had done had come to nothing. He had never felt like more of a failure than he did at that moment.

'Get to my office, Dumbledore,' Professor Black said. He had undone the curses on Noxious, who, while staggering slightly, still managed to run his shoulder into Albus as he walked past, smirking. Albus dragged his feet, watching as the jubilant Slytherin throng followed the other houses into the castle.

At the top of the entrance steps Professor Prewett descended upon Albus and Professor Black.

'What is this commotion?' she asked. Her face was taut and pale. 'Why has Gryffindor's points tally been reduced by four hundred?'

'I have no time to explain,' Professor Black snapped, clutching Albus' shoulder and leading him past her. 'Perhaps you can go and ask the miscreant students from your House. In the meantime, I want you to send an owl for Archaeon Dumbledore. Tell him that his son has been expelled and he must come to the Hogwarts Gates at once to collect the little brat.'

'Albus, no,' Professor Prewett cried. She raised a shaking hand to her mouth. Albus gave her a quiet look of desperation over his shoulder, before Professor Black pulled hard on his shoulder and led him up the stairs.

'I don't see you hurrying to summon Archaeon Dumbledore, Professor,' Professor Black said. Professor Prewett hurried off in another direction, and Albus lost sight of her as he was dragged around a corner.

Albus had never been to the Headmaster's office by the front entrance. His only prior visit had been to the Headmaster's cupboard, achieved by holding on to Fawkes' tail feathers and apparating there. Even though this was the first visit where he would be getting to see the inside of the Headmaster's office, Albus did not care to look. He vaguely noticed a revolving stairwell, and also saw that there were numerous sleeping portraits on the walls. But to all intents and purposes Albus' heart was in his feet and he was too busy trying to blink away tears.

'Got him, have you?' said another unpleasantly familiar voice. Albus was pushed on to a hard wooden chair. He wiped his eyes and saw that Professor Fudge's dog face was leering at him from the comfort of a sofa. Caretaker Umbridge was skulking in a corner, his face twisted into a look of glee.

'Indeed I have,' Professor Black said triumphantly. 'Now we must move quickly. You know the plan, Ebenezer, Wilfred?'

The two other accomplices nodded wickedly.

'Very good,' Professor Black said. 'So Wilfred, patrol the corridors and make sure that no student puts a foot out of their houses. Lock them up if they do, and I will expel them later. And see to it that none of the staff go walkabouts either. You have already seen to Lupin, I hope?'

'He is occupied in the dungeons, fixing the keys I deliberately damaged,' Caretaker Umbridge said happily. 'And Professor Longbottom is in the library repairing Herbology textbooks that I accidentally loaned to Peeves.'

Albus silently cursed the poltergeist. He was furious that Caretaker Umbridge was usingPeeves for whatever purpose Professor Black had. Peeves had been his idea.

'Excellent, Wilfred,' Professor Black said. 'I trust you will do as asked. Be aware that I have instructed Professor Prewett to send an owl to this brat's father. So see that she makes her way swiftly back to her office from theOwleryand stays out of our way?'

'Yes, very good sir,' Caretaker Umbridge said. He disappeared through the door. Albus' heart was beating fast. Why was Professor Black so desperate to keep everyone in Hogwarts occupied? What was he trying to draw their attention away from?

'Now, Ebenezer,' Professor Black said, turning to Professor Fudge, 'I expect Dumbledore will be here very shortly. We must make haste.'

'Very good,' Professor Fudge growled. He turned his beetle eyes on Albus and said, 'right, you, we are going for a little walk down to the Entrance Gates. Hand over your wand, will you?'

Albus had no will to resist the instruction. He handed over the wand, half expecting Professor Fudge to snap it in two.

'I heard from my old friend Ollivander that your wand has a very unique core,' Professor Fudge said, a wicked leer on his face again. 'Phineas, I think I will take this wand for myself instead of breaking it. Mind if I leave it on your desk?'

'Certainly,' Professor Black said. 'Now let us be on our way.'

Unarmed, without hope for ever being permitted back inside the walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, his favourite place in the world, Albus was led back out of the Headmaster's office, back down to the front doors and out into the Hogwarts grounds. The sunshine did not seem so friendly anymore. Albus walked with his head down, following in the footsteps of Professor Black with Professor Fudge bringing up the rear.

They passed through the gates of Hogwarts. Albus actually cried as he saw the sculpted hog heads atop the gates. This was truly the end of his time at Hogwarts. He might never see his friends again – Victoria, Alabastor, William, Mars, Edward, Emily, Elizabeth, Maggie, Annabel - all of the Pirates... or even old Jenning from Ravenclaw.

For some reason they came to a stop. Both Professors had their wands out. Professor Fudge came and stood behind Albus, holding him by the shoulder with his left hand and pointing his wand at Albus' neck with his right hand. What was going on?

A crack announced the arrival of Archaeon Dumbledore. Albus saw that his father looked more terrible and angry than he had ever seen him. His auburn hair seemed to crackle with electricity, and his blue eyes glowed like sapphires.

'Now let us keep this clean, Archaeon Dumbledore,' said Professor Black from somewhere to Albus' right. 'Hand over your wand or Ebenezer kills your son.'

Archaeon was not holding his wand, but Albus doubted that even he could move swiftly enough to disarm both Professors Black and Fudge in time. Professor Fudge's wand was pressing into Albus' neck. He would surely be dead before Archaeon could save him.

'Why have you brought my son into this?' Archaeon asked quietly.

'Give us the wand now or your son dies,' Professor Black said coldly.

Albus' heart sank even further when his father reluctantly pulled out his wand and threw it towards Professor Black.

Professor Black caught it and promptly snapped it in two. Albus gasped.

'Now, any wandless magic and your son will die,' Professor Black said.

'_Cardia Mortis,_' Professor Fudge said. The spell came out of the blue. An exceedingly bright purple flame lashed across and struck Archaeon on the chest. By his tremendous cry of agony and the way in which he clutched his chest, Albus realised that Archaeon had been hit by a properly cast _Cardia Mortis. _The one Noxious had used on Aberforth had been of significantly lesser power. Albus let out a loud sob. He wanted to run up and help his father, but Professor Fudge was still clutching on to his shoulder.

'That was a handy spell,' Professor Black said, looking at Professor Fudge with a curiously vacant expression.

'Yes, I invented it,' Professor Fudge said casually. 'Dumbledore will not have the energy to resist us with any wandless or unspoken magic now.'

'Excellent,' Professor Black said greedily. He walked up and kicked Archaeon in the stomach. Albus let out a cry of protest but Professor Fudge hit him with a silencing charm and his voice disappeared. Professor Black said in a commanding voice, 'Archaeon, you know where we are taking your son. You will follow us, alone, or we will kill him.'

'Leave my son behind, I beg of you!' Archaeon gasped, still clutching his chest in agony.

'We are not fools!' Professor Black snapped. 'Your son is our collateral. Now we will apparate to our destination, and if you do not follow us within the count of twelve, we will kill him.'

Professor Black swirled around and marched back towards Professor Fudge. The two exchanged a look of agreement. Albus felt Professor Fudge's arm slip under his, and moments later was pulled into the familiar vortex of apparation.

When he opened his eyes he discovered that he was standing in front of a very dark archway. Somewhere to the left and back of him glowed the golden archway that acted as a portal to Heliopolis. Professors Fudge and Black had apparated all the way to Egypt, to the place Archaeon and his team of Archaeowizards had uncovered, taking Albus with them.

Albus had to wait for a few breathless seconds for his father to arrive, in which he was certain that his time had come and he was going to die. But arrive Archaeon did, still clutching his chest and looking weak. Albus was terrified. He held his father in awe, and here he was, frail and weak and wandless against two very powerful, very dark wizards.

'Be brave for me, Albus,' Archaeon gasped.

'Shut up, fool,' Professor Black commanded. 'Now, Archaeon, you will lead us through the Gateway of Shadows and into Imhotep's crypt. Any attempt to fight us and Ebenezer will kill your son. Understood?'

'Understood,' Archaeon said weakly.

As Archaeon disappeared through the dark Gateway of Shadows, and Professor Fudge's tight grip on his shoulders directed him to do likewise, Albus started to fill in all the gaps that had been either unfilled or inaccurately filled during the year.

The boy that Professors Black and Fudge had talked about was him … but the Dumbledore they had referred to was Archaeon – not Albus! Professor Black had wanted to "use the boy … to get Dumbledore" – to use Albus to get Archaeon! It was all making terrible, painful sense to Albus now. If he had known that getting expelled would hand his father to Professor Black and Fudge on a plate, he would never have duelled Noxious. In fact, he would have let Davey surrender without a fight and would have paid Noxious ten galleons for the sake of avoiding the duel! Albus stepped through the Gateway of Shadows full of regret at the mistakes he had made, and full of fear at what awaited him and his father on the other side.

* * *

Author's Note: I thought it was only fair to write another chapter so soon after writing a cliff-hanger. I suppose that this chapter also ends with something of a cliff-hanger, but this is a necessary evil at this stage of the story. I cannot answer everything in one go. At least you have got more answers out of this chapter's ending than the last one.Needless to say, the real action in this story's climax has now begun, and I look forward to reading your reviews of this chapter before I write the next thrilling episode. I look forward to writing the rest! 


	19. Imhotep's Crypt

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this work is a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"Through all the ages there is an enduring force called evil. It never ceases to exist."

* * *

Chapter 19 – Imhotep's Crypt

Albus stumbled through the Gateway of Shadows, Professor Fudge's wand still pressed against his throat. Professor Fudge had not let go of Albus' shoulder either. Both his throat and shoulder were starting to hurt. He looked up and saw Professor Black pointing his wand at Archaeon. Albus' father was standing at the feet of the giant statue that greeted anyone who dared enter the Gateway of Shadows.

The statue of Imhotep towered above them. Its narrow eyes leered down at them over its staff, whose end curled into a cobra's head. Snakes curled around the feet, and streams of dark Egyptian symbols decorated the base of the statue. Professor Black was trying to get Albus' father to do something for him.

'Translate, Dumbledore!' Professor Black said. 'And do not try to mislead me! I know enough hieroglyphics to understand some of what is written here!'

'Why not give Dumbledore the truth serum,' Professor Fudge said briskly.

'Ah, Veritaserum,' Professor Black said, clapping his hand to his head. 'I have none with me.'

'Here, Phineas,' Professor Fudge said. He withdrew a flask from his robes and lobbed it in the air. Professor Black caught it. Albus was beginning to wonder who the better wizard was. Professor Fudge seemed far cannier: inventing _Cardia Mortis,_ using it against Archaeon and bringing useful potions like Veritaserum along. It did not make Albus feel any better that it was Professor Fudge holding a wand to his neck, not Professor Black.

'Drink this, Dumbledore, and then translate,' Professor Black said, harshly thrusting the flask at Albus' father. Archaeon, still weak from the _Cardia Mortis_ spell, took it with shaking hands and drank from it without argument. Albus' shoulders drooped even further. It was because Professor Fudge had threatened to kill Albus if Archaeon was not cooperative that he was so willingly giving in to the Dark wizards. Albus felt totally useless. For once in a situation, he did not know what to do.

Archaeon Dumbledore's eyes went strangely blank and he started to speak in a monotone. He translated the hieroglyphics at the feet of Imhotep's statue.

'_Seven sacred sanctuaries here you will find,_' Archaeon Dumbledore said dully,

'_Each the keeper of an object to unbind,_

_Succeed and you will achieve your goal,_

_Fame immortal your worthy haul.'_

'Seven?' Professor Black said, taken aback. He turned to Professor Fudge, still training his wand on Archaeon's back. 'There are only five crypts.'

'Perhaps the entrance crypt and the tunnel are included,' Professor Fudge said.

'Yes, that would make seven,' Professor Black said, his eyes hungry again. 'Dumbledore, translate more of the hieroglyphics so we can find out where these objects are and what we have to do to unbind them.'

Archaeon nodded and obediently started to read the hieroglyphics. It seemed to be a series of riddles.

'_At first it is not what meets the eye,_

_But what at the feet doth lie,_

_To restore their mortal lucidity,_

_Enchantments must release.'_

'What do you think that means, Ebenezer?' Professor Black said uncertainly.

'We are in the first sanctuary, I think,' Professor Fudge said. 'It refers to the statue, if I am correct. What lies at the feet of the statue?'

'The snakes,' Professor Black said.

'They are asps,' Archaeon corrected. He was still speaking only the truth. Professor Black had forced him to drink the entire flask of Veritaserum. It would take a long time to wear off.

'So we must release the enchantments on those asps painted around the foot of the statue,' Professor Fudge said. 'Get Dumbledore to do it. He is the expert at transfiguration.'

'Very well,' Professor Black said. Albus noticed that Professor Black's eyes had narrowed at Professor Fudge's, if only for an instant. But when he looked again, Professor Black was glaring at Archaeon again. He said, 'Dumbledore, transfigure the pictures at the feet into asps, according to the hieroglyphic instructions.'

'I cannot do so without a wand,' Archaeon said in his dull voice.

'Take mine,' Professor Black said, 'but if you use it against us Ebenezer will kill your son, as we have warned you.'

Archaeon nodded, took the wand and performed a complex series of spells at the base of the statue. The seven snakes at the feet of Imhotep's statue started to glow, then swell, until they burst from the painting with a pop and a hiss. Soon, seven live asps were slithering about dangerously on the dusty rock floor of the crypt. They started to move around the statue, but kept turning their heads to look at Professors Fudge and Black, as if urging them to follow. They did; Professor Black reclaiming his wand and poking it in Archaeon's back so that he went first, followed by Professor Fudge who continued clutching at Albus' shoulder so hard that it hurt.

The asps led the party of four into the dark and narrow tunnel. Professor Black enchanted the torches hanging in brackets on the walls to light up. They burned with a low purple flame. The sarcophagi on either side were still covered in cobwebs and dust. The asps stopped at a place on the wall where cobwebs covered some more ancient hieroglyphics.

'Dumbledore, translate!' Professor Black snapped. Archaeon hesitantly moved forward, brushed away the cobwebs and started to read.

'_They stand watch but cannot see,_

_You really ought their souls to free,_

_But they belong to the one, who waits,_

_So unleash them who have no fate.'_

'This one is obvious,' Professor Black said. He puffed out his chest and an important grin spread across his dark and wicked face. 'We must bring the mummies out. Ebenezer, keep your eye on Archaeon and the boy.'

Professor Black started walking the length of the tunnel, tapping his wand on the sarcophagi and performing spells that opened their lids. Albus caught a glimpse of a scaly, rotten hand falling out of the doorway. He could not see the rest of the arm, but knew that something dead was about to be brought to life. He shuddered.

Professor Black returned to the end of the tunnel for another circuit. Now that the sarcophagi were opened, he was going to bring the mummies to life.

'_Ascendus Inferi_,' he said; a red glow emanating from his wand and surging into an open sarcophagus. A low grunt came from inside, followed by a terrible high-pitched wail. Moments later a skeletal figure, draped in filthy grey bandages, stepped out into the tunnel. It stared directly at Albus, its eyes deep and dark inside its skull. Albus tasted vomit in the back of his throat. He was having the worst day of his life.

Professor Black marched the length of the tunnel, uttering _'Ascendus Inferi'_ repeatedly until thirteen mummies had formed a chain behind Professor Fudge and Albus. He could smell their fetid breath, or was that just the smell of their bodies? He did not know, but he was actually glad to have Professor Fudge standing between him and the Inferi.

The seven asps decided to slither into one of the crypts to the right of the tunnel. Archaeon was made to follow by Professor Black, then Albus by Professor Fudge. Fortunately the Inferi stayed outside, moaning softly and staring vacantly at Albus whenever he turned to look at them.

Albus had been in this side room with Mars on Christmas Day. It was a square room filled with dark materials. There were mummified asps and scarabs, vials of strange potions and other unusual items. Once again, Archaeon's attention was directed at the hieroglyphics on the wall by Professor Black and he was made to translate.

'_Our form is bleak and callous to the eye,_

_But we are valuable when the time is nigh,_

_At the call of he who reigns this place,_

_We shall scourge the pharaoh's face.'_

'What is that supposed to mean?' Professor Black said, giving Professor Fudge a stupid look. This time Professor Fudge did not seem to have the answers either, but he thought quickly.

'Dumbledore, unlock the secret of that riddle for us,' Professor Fudge said.

'You have to enchant the scarabs to life,' Archaeon said. His voice remained monotonous. Albus was desperately hoping that the Veritaserum would wear off and his father could be returned to his normal senses, albeit weakened by the _Cardia Mortis _spell.

Professor Black brought the scarabs to life, and the frightful black beetles scurried to join the back of the procession in the tunnel. In any other situation, Albus would have found their appearance amusing: seven snakes leading four people, followed by thirteen moaning Inferi and an army of a thousand scarabs scuttling about on the floor. But this was no laughing matter.

In the second crypt Archaeon read out a riddle that Albus had solved before it was even finished.

'_I populate the swirl of potter's hand,_

_Dark is my essence of mortal man,_

_But uplift me now and bring me forth,_

_For soon I shall pulse with living warmth.'_

'Bring the blood,' Professor Fudge said. Albus looked down and saw that a vase containing a dark sludge was leaning against the wall underneath the hieroglyphics.

'I cannot carry it,' Professor Black said irritably. 'I need my wand hand to control Dumbledore. Here, Dumbledore, you take it. Do not drop it, or I will see that you watch us torture your son into madness.'

Archaeon reluctantly took hold of the vase of blood. The strain showed on his face as he lifted it up. His knees nearly buckled. Albus wondered whether it was the effects of the _Cardia Mortis _curse, or simply a heavy vase of blood.

Inside the third crypt Archaeon did not even wait to be told before he translated the hieroglyphics.

'_The coils of two combined in the fray,_

_Not flesh and bone nor wood are they,_

_Within their bounds resides the power,_

_Bring it forth, now is the hour.'_

Professor Black did not seem to need Professor Fudge to solve the riddle this time. He picked up a magnificent wooden staff that looked just like the one in the statue. It appeared to be the coil of two snakes ending in the head of a cobra. Red rubies glowed where the eyes should be. Professor Black handed the staff to Albus.

'Hold this, boy, and damage it at your peril,' Professor Black said.

Albus felt heat radiating from the staff, even though it had been locked in this cool crypt for thousands of years. He did not like the feeling he got from having it in his possession. He was thinking dark thoughts … _he wanted Archaeon to suffer … he wanted Professors Fudge and Black to succeed … Imhotep must be raised … raise him … raise him …_

Albus heard someone screaming; it sounded like a boy. He opened his eyes to find that he was lying on the cold stone floor. Professor Fudge pulled him to his feet, cursing angrily.

'I will take the staff, Phineas,' Professor Fudge said waspishly. 'It is too powerful an object for this pathetic boy to carry.'

'Very well,' Professor Black said, eyeing Professor Fudge warily. 'We have one more crypt to go before we come to the resting place of Imhotep. Let us make haste.'

Albus was dragged into the fourth crypt by Professor Fudge. This was the one without any decorations. The only occupant of the room was a skeleton lying on a platform, with what looked like an instrument for removing the brain thrust up the hole in its face where the nose used to be.

'Translate,' Professor Black said to Archaeon.

'_A life once lost for less noble cause,_

_Shall be of use as another thaws,_

_Bring the bone of longest nature,_

_For in a curse it soon will feature.'_

'Bring the long bone of the leg,' Professor Fudge said to Professor Black. 'We will need it shortly.'

And so the procession entered into the final crypt, where Albus knew laid the tomb of Imhotep, a dark and infamous wizard from ancient Egyptian times. The procession was led by the unwilling and forlorn figure of Archaeon Dumbledore holding a vase of blood, followed by Professor Black holding a human thigh bone, then Albus, then Professor Fudge holding a wand to Albus' throat and Imhotep's staff in the other hand; with thirteen Inferi draped in white sheets and a horde of scarabs bringing up the rear.

Albus could not help being awed by Imhotep's crypt. The central piece was a towering plinth, atop which rested the sarcophagus of Imhotep. From far above them streamed a single beam of sunlight which fell on the sarcophagus. It had the same markings, staff and asps painted on to it as the statue at the entrance. The walls of the crypt were covered in dark hieroglyphic writing. Images of dog-headed men and crocodiles eating children were commonplace. Albus shivered. Maybe it was the presence of the moaning Inferi, or that Albus knew he was about to witness the rebirth of a very powerful, very evil Dark wizard.

'You do not need to translate anymore, Archaeon,' Professor Black said. He was wearing a maniacal grin, as if he were five years old and had just been given a wand for his birthday. 'Ebenezer, would you like to perform the incantation together?'

'Someone has to keep an eye on Dumbledore and his brat,' Professor Fudge said.

'We will dispose of them both as soon as Imhotep is reborn,' Professor Black said. Professor Fudge nodded.

As Professor Black took the vase of blood from Archaeon and made his way up a narrow path of steps that led up to the plinth, Albus' father gave him a look of desperation. He was clutching his chest again. He sank to his knees. Albus sobbed, his throat as dry as sand. He could not watch his father in such grievous pain.

Professor Black enchanted the lid of Imhotep's sarcophagus to open. As it was raised on a plinth, only Professor Black could see what was inside.

'Phineas, you will need his staff,' Professor Fudge said.

'Ah yes,' Professor Black said. He left the vase of blood and the bone on the plinth and started back down the steps. Then something completely unexpected happened.

'_Expelliarmus!'_ cried Professor Fudge. Professor Black's wand sailed away, hit the wall and landed in a far corner of the crypt.

For what seemed like ten minutes but what was probably closer to ten seconds, Professors Black and Fudge stared at each other. Hate began to creep up Professor Black's neck, a red, angry hatred. His dark eyes bulged and his teeth clenched together.

'You treacherous …' Professor Black began, but Professor Fudge performed a silencing charm on him and began to march forward menacingly, leaving Albus behind him.

'This is _my_ moment of triumph,' Professor Fudge snarled. 'It is my noble task to raise Imhotep to life, not yours. You die. Now!'

Several things happened at once. Professor Fudge drew his arm back to perform a killing curse on Professor Black. Fawkes appeared in a flash of flame in the air above Albus, dropping his trusted twelve and a half inch willow wand into Albus' hands. Archaeon came staggering over to grab Albus in a protective embrace. Albus, thinking quickly, realised that Professor Black was about to be murdered by Professor Fudge. For some reason he thought of Noxious without a father, and despite the dislike he had for the Black family, he did not want Professor Black to be murdered. Albus cried out, '_Impedimenta_', at the exact moment that Archaeon's arms closed around him and as Professor Fudge said, _'Avada…'_

Albus' hex struck brushed past Professor Fudge's arm and hit Professor Black instead. Archaeon had bumped Albus off course. Fortunately the spell knocked Professor Black off the narrow steps and he fell to the bottom of the plinth. Professor Fudge's _Avada Kedavra_ hit the plinth where Professor Black had been just moments before.

Realising what must have happened; Professor Fudge swirled around and pointed his wand at Archaeon and Albus.

'_Avada Kedavra!' _Professor Fudge yelled.

Albus stared as a green light surged out of Professor Fudge's wand. He did not know if the Protective Potion worked against _Avada Kedavra,_ but Archaeon was unprotected.

That is, until Fawkes swooped down and took the spell for them. The phoenix erupted in a burst of flame and vanished. All that remained of the bird was a single feather which floated slowly to the floor.

Archaeon snatched Albus' wand from him and started duelling Professor Fudge.

'Stay back, Albus!' he called desperately. Professor Fudge and Archaeon's arms were blurs as they cast hexes and jinxes and put up shields which resonated every time they deflected a spell.

Albus wanted to cover his eyes, afraid that Professor Fudge might win the duel, but something caught his attention. A mummy had climbed to the top of the plinth and was pouring blood from the vase into the open sarcophagus. Moments later it crushed the bone to dust and sprinkled the white powder into the sarcophagus. Then it snapped its own arm and let some dark fluid splatter onto its master. The mummy collapsed in a heap of bandages.

'Please let it have failed,' Albus willed. He was not aware of anything happening in the duel between Professor Fudge and Archaeon. All he could focus on was the rim of the open sarcophagus.

A skeletal hand appeared over the rim and clutched it. Albus nearly fell over backwards in terror.

'Father,' Albus cried, 'Imhotep!'

Archaeon was too busy with Professor Fudge to hear him, but he soon became aware of what was going on by an ear-wrenching scream coming from the sarcophagus. Professor Fudge was distracted just long enough for Archaeon to knock him out with a Stunning charm.

'Albus!' yelled Archaeon. The tall wizard ran forward and enveloped Albus in a hug. 'Stay with me now, for I must fight this fiend.'

They watched in horror as a skeleton dripping in blood and flesh rose to its full height. The creature looked fearfully impressive with a single beam of sunlight falling through his ribs, standing loftily above them on the plinth. Imhotep was reborn.

'_Avada Kedavra!'_ cried Archaeon, sending an arc of green light up towards Imhotep. The skeleton put out a hand and seemingly caught the curse! Albus watched in disbelief as Imhotep examined the glow of green light with both hands. He realised that Imhotep's flesh was slowly rebuilding itself around his bones. Two eyes appeared from the dark cavities in his skull. They peered at the _Avada Kedavra _curse with interest.

'Ayerfaja al morgin,' rasped a hoarse voice. Imhotep had spoken.

Almost as if by instinct, Archaeon translated the ancient Egyptian tongue out loud.

'"Interesting magic",' Archaeon said. 'The thing is able to control and observe the darkest curse in modern magic! Albus, my son, we have to get out of here.'

Before Archaeon could make any such move, Imhotep flexed his arm and threw the ball of green light down at Professor Fudge, who had just started to stir from under the pile of rubble where Archaeon had left him. He was dead an instant later.

'Ubakyasha al terfuz,' Imhotep rasped. His staff flew up into his outstretched hand. He turned its ruby eyes on Albus and Archaeon and rasped something else. '_Alashazar!'_

A tremendous sound filled the air, like a wave of energy so powerful that it overwhelmed the laws of nature. The air seemed to ripple as the spell surged down towards Albus and Archaeon. To Albus' relief a silvery white shield materialised in thin air – his Protective Potion! He had forgotten all about it!

The spell hit the shield, which vibrated with such intensity that it exploded in a puff of smoke. Archaeon was thrown backwards so hard that he hit the rock wall and fell to the floor, unconscious. Albus himself fell backwards, in time to see a rock falling from the crumbling wall towards his face. It hit him flat on the nose. He heard a 'CRACK!' and howled in pain as his nose went all crooked.

Imhotep had momentarily turned his attention on the mummies. Albus saw that Professor Fudge had been raised from the dead and was now marching, slack-jawed, in single file with the other Inferi. His eyes had rolled back in their sockets and only the whites were showing. Albus surveyed the scene. Professor Black was lying unconscious at the foot of the plinth. Archaeon was lying unconscious next to him. Albus knew that it was only a matter of time before Imhotep would realise that Archaeon was still alive, and that another human was lying unconscious at the base of the plinth. They would both be dead without knowing it.

Albus had no other choice. He knew that he was safe under the Protective Potion. He had to do something about Imhotep before it was too late. He seized his wand from where it lay in Archaeon's limp hands, and stared around the crypt for inspiration.

His eyes fell on the single feather that Fawkes had left on the stone floor when he had evaporated in a flash of flame.

The phoenix feather.

Albus put together some things in his head, which seemed to be whizzing with ideas like never before. He remembered reading something from the library once … _the phoenix song … is said to tear at the fabric of the souls of those who are of evil intention._ He remembered teaching himself to transfigure owl feathers into owls using the _Avis Inimago Avis _spell. He remembered impressing Professor Prewett with a spell that made something sing, the _Aria Avis_ spell. Putting all these things together in a few seconds, Albus knew what he had to do.

He looked down at Fawkes' feather lying on the ground. He needed to fix the image of the feather in his head. Concentrating hard, Albus burned the image of the golden red feather on the back of his eyes. He readied himself for the spell. He was holding his willow wand with his forefinger and thumb, his middle finger to the side and the other two fingers sticking out daintily as though he were drinking a cup of tea.

The moment had come for Albus to go beyond any magic he had ever done before. With a swish to the left, a swish to the right, a downward flick and a reverse flick with his palm facing upward, Albus said the incantation.

'_Avis Inimago Avis.'_

The feather on the ground glowed white hot and swelled. Imhotep ceased rasping at his mummies and turned to watch with evil red eyes as the feather was transfigured into a phoenix. It turned momentarily to catch Albus' eyes. The transfigured phoenix communicated to Albus that there was no need to use the _Aria Avis _spell.

Then, it began to sing.

It was the most beautiful soundAlbus had ever heard. It was like the melody of a thousand Welsh choristers rising and falling like a wave over the valleys of Wales, or the pluck of harp-strings against the soft melody of waves licking sandy shores, or the lone voice of a single soprano singer crying out under pale, lucid moon. Albus' heart seemed to burn with joy. But he watched Imhotep with bated breath.

At first the song seemed to do no harm to the flesh-and-bones wizard. But then Albus noticed that Imhotep's flesh was turning black. His eyes started to sink back into his head. Then, as if the experience was hurting him, the skeleton clutched at his skull and started to scream. It was an ear-splitting howl but the song of the phoenix soon drowned it out. Imhotep began to crumble; and, Albus noticed, so did the scarabs, the asps and the mummies. Professor Fudge ceased to be an Inferi and fell back to the ground, as dead as he had been before. Finally, with one last howl of anger at his defeat, Imhotep evaporated in a puff of dust.

Albus ran up to the phoenix.

'Thank you!' he cried. 'Thank you for saving us!'

The phoenix turned its baleful eyes on Albus and communicated that he should thank himself, and his father. Albus was reminded that Archaeon lay unconscious against the wall.

'I need you to cry for me,' Albus said to the phoenix. He ran over to Archaeon and took his father's hands in his. The phoenix fluttered over, landing gently on Archaeon's shoulders. It squeezed out three silvery tears which landed on Archaeon's chest. Then, without a second look at Albus, the transfigured phoenix rose into the air and burst joyously into flame. This time it did not leave a feather.

'Albus?' said Archaeon softly. His eyes were open a fraction. 'Albus, are you alright?'

'I am perfectly well, thank you, father,' Albus said briskly. 'Are _you_?'

'I believe that I am cured of my affliction,' Archaeon said, rising to his feet slowly. His limbs creaked audibly. 'Now, what in the name of Merlin has happened here?'

Albus quickly recounted his transfiguration of the feather into a phoenix, how it had destroyed Imhotep with its song, wept tears over Archaeon and then vanished. At that, Albus burst into tears and collapsed into his father's arms, sobbing.

'Fawkes is gone! I have lost my pet phoenix! And I have been expelled! I will never see my friends again! I thought you were going to die! If only I had told you that I had taken the Protective Potion, then you could have fought Professors Fudge and Black and Imhotep would never have come back to life! I am so sorry I got expelled! I did not mean to fight Noxious, but he hit Aberforth with _Cardia Mortis_ and I was just so angry! I have failed you, father!'

'No, you have not,' Archaeon said at last, rubbing the hair at the back of Albus' head and drawing him into a firm hug. 'You have not failed me at all. I could never have imagined my own son, at eleven years of age, producing an effective Protective Potion of Birch, transfiguring a phoenix feather into a genuine phoenix, destroying the most powerful dark wizard of antiquity – albeit a very weak and poorly reborn one, and hitting his Headmaster with such an effective jinx that he remains unconscious!'

They looked over at Professor Black, who was still conked out at the foot of the plinth. Albus let out a giggle and then gasped at his audacity.

'But I have been expelled, father!' he cried.

'Nonsense,' Archaeon said gently. 'I am certain that Professor Prewett will reinstate you as soon as we return to Hogwarts.'

'Professor Prewett …' Albus said slowly. 'How can she reinstate me? She is not Headmistress!'

'My son, do you truly believe that I would permit Phineas Black to return as Headmaster of Hogwarts after his display today?' Archaeon said. 'It is a small wonder I do not send him to Azkaban at once.'

'What will happen to him?' Albus asked. Something was stuck in his throat. He thought it might be hope and joy. But he fought the urge to break out laughing just yet. He might not be expelled after all …

'I do not think I will insist that Phineas Black is sent to Azkaban,' Archaeon said. 'The Black family are very influential with the ministry and this is a scandal that the wizarding world will not like particularly much. Furthermore, if word gets out that I stopped Imhotep ... do not get me wrong, son, but nobody in their right mind will believe that an eleven year old defeated such a dark wizard … if word gets out, then they will be braying for me to take on the Ministry of Magic or the Headmastership of Hogwarts.'

'Why not, father!' cried Albus, delighted by the idea. 'It would be perfect!'

'No, my son,' Archaeon said, a touch of whimsy in his voice now. 'I am an Archaeowizard, not a politician or a public figure.'

'So … if you are going to keep this whole thing hush, how will you get rid of Professor Black from Hogwarts?' Albus asked.

'I will inform him,' Archaeon said, 'that if he wishes to avoid embarrassing charges at the Ministry that would see him spend the rest of his life in Azkaban, then he shall resign henceforth from Hogwarts and never again grace the public arena. I will force him into retirement.'

'He will not like that,' Albus said astutely.

'Naturally not,' Archaeon said. 'Nevertheless, once he learns that you twice saved his life, I think you will find that he will be indebted to you forever. You do not have to fear Phineas Black ever haunting your young life again.'

'That is a relief,' Albus said.

Archaeon allowed himself a chuckle, before patting Albus on the head.

'Come, I shall awaken our friend Phineas and we will return to Hogwarts,' Archaeon said. 'I think Phineas and I need to spend an hour or so discussing things over tea.'

'What about this place?' Albus asked. 'Are you going to destroy it?'

'There is no need to,' Archaeon said. 'There is no magic left in this place. A team of muggle "archaeologists" might one day stumble on this place and they would not be able to tell it apart from any of their own muggle historical finds.'

'What about Heliopolis?' Albus asked.

'My team of Archaeowizards will be dismantling the golden entrance to Heliopolis,' Archaeon said. 'It is the best thing to do, before other dark wizards come trying to get their hands on all the gold. Heliopolis is best left lying dormant forever.'

Archaeon enervated Professor Black, and then promptly bound him in invisible ropes.

'You and I will be having a discussion when we get back to Hogwarts,' Archaeon said sternly, 'about your imminent retirement from Hogwarts and all public duty.'

'But … but … Imhotep … by Merlin, Fudge, dead … what happened?'

'All will be revealed to you shortly,' Archaeon said, levitating Professor Black and moving him through the air towards the exit. 'Come Albus; let us return through the Gateway of Shadows. I will have to apparate with Phineas. I trust you can apparate yourself back to Hogwarts alone?'

'He is not of age, how can he apparate?' Professor Black cried out.

'Phineas,' Archaeon said, 'had you been a decent headmaster and bothered to observe the talents of students in houses _other_ than Slytherin, you would have realised that my son is one of the best young wizards ever to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Now cease talking, it is distracting.'

Albus let a genuine smile wash all over his face for the first time that day. He was going back to Hogwarts.

* * *

Authors Note: Thank you once again for all my lovely reviewers, you are all the best. This was the second-to-last chapter, I think. I expect I only have one more chapter to write to tie up all the loose ends in _Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather._ I hope you have had fun along the way. I know I have. As far as writing about Albus' second year at Hogwarts goes, I am not sure whether I will or won't. Give me at least a month or two to think about it, as I have a busy period of time coming up, but do not hold your breath about another story. But there is still one more chapter left in this story, which I will write soon. 


	20. Everything is Set Right

Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Disclaimer: this entire work was a fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling. I am indebted to her for her wonderful creativity and scholarship.

"Every good thing comes to an end"

* * *

Chapter 20 – Everything is Set Right

Archaeon Dumbledore took Professor Black straight up to the Headmaster's office once they had apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. Albus wanted to return to Gryffindor Tower to tell his friends that he had not been expelled after all, but Archaeon had other things in mind.

'No, my son, I want you to be present for this discussion,' Archaeon said. 'You deserve to hear everything that Phineas has to say. After all, you were the one who saved his life; twice. What you can do for me is fetch Athene.'

'Athene?' said Albus, frowning.

'Athene Prewett; your Housemistress,' Archaeon said.

Albus hurried off to Professor Prewett's office. Caretaker Umbridge seemed to be doing a good job of keeping everyone in their Houses because the corridors were deathly still. Albus hammered his little fist on Professor Prewett's office door.

'Who is making such a racket …' she began, swinging her door open. She stared down at Albus through her monocle, her jaw slack. She said, 'Albus! What happened to your nose … I thought you had been expelled? What happened?'

'I have no time to explain, Professor,' Albus said. 'My father is waiting for you in the Headmaster's office with Professor Black. He wants you there.'

Professor Prewett showed no expression as she marched up to the gargoyle outside the Headmaster's office, Albus hurrying along beside her. Moments later Albus was seated in a comfortable red sofa with a cup of tea and a malt biscuit in his hands. Professor Prewett sat opposite him, but she was too busy staring at the sight of Professor Black tied up by invisible ropes, his feet floating an inch above the carpet to have a cup of tea herself. Archaeon was sitting in the Headmaster's seat, looking quite important with his blaze of auburn hair and penetrating blue eyes.

'Athene, I imagine you are quite curious as to what just happened in the last couple of hours,' Archaeon said mildly. 'Do have a cup of tea; you look like you need it.'

'Phineas … Albus … oh do tell me what is going on, Archaeon,' Professor Prewett said. Her eyes were bouncing back and forth between the suspended Headmaster, Albus and Archaeon.

'You may recall, Athene,' Archaeon said slowly, linking his fingers under his chin, 'I sent you a letter in March warning you that things were not as they seemed at Hogwarts. You see, your colleagues Phineas and Ebenezer have been plotting to infiltrate my extraordinary findings in the Egyptian desert. They heard that I had uncovered the tomb of Imhotep, one of the most infamous wizards of all time, and the fabled golden city of Heliopolis. Their plot was to have Albus expelled, to use his expulsion as a means to get me to come to Hogwarts, and then use Albus as leverage to force me to do their bidding.'

Professor Prewett had one hand over her mouth.

'Father, did you know about their plans?' Albus interjected.

'I knew part of their plan,' Archaeon said. 'When you told me that Phineas was using his son to try and get you expelled, I sensed that something was awry. Unfortunately, I never dreamed that they would use you to get to me. Sometimes evil people think in ways that the good are simply too good to comprehend!'

'Please, go on with the story!' Professor Prewett said urgently.

'Of course, Athene,' Archaeon said politely. 'When you sent word that Albus had been expelled I came forthwith. I was completely unprepared to find myself facing off with two dark wizards who were holding my son captive and wand-less.'

'I was under the Protective Potion!' Albus cried out. 'I should have told you about it at once; then you could have fought them!'

'No, unfortunately not,' Archaeon said. 'The Birch Protective Potion protects the innocent against all things, but not the _Avada Kedavra._ That is too powerful a curse.'

'Albus concocted a Birch Protective Potion?' Professor Prewett said. She was staring at Albus in disbelief. Professor Black was heard to snort.

'As I reminded you, Phineas, my son is a far superior wizard than you have ever given him credit for,' Archaeon said briskly. 'Yes, Athene, he did. And thank heavens; otherwise Imhotep would have killed him.'

'Imhotep!' exclaimed Professor Prewett, nearly falling off the edge of her seat.

'Sorry, I am getting ahead of myself in the story,' Archaeon said. He quickly recounted how Professors Fudge and Black had defeated him and blackmailed him into apparating to Egypt and unlocking the hieroglyphics and the riddles for them. Professor Prewett was shocked to hear of Professor Fudge's use of the _Cardia Mortis_ on Archaeon and the way he had backstabbed Professor Black. It was at this point that Professor Black could keep his silence no longer.

'The treacherous scum!' cried Professor Black. 'I entrusted him with all my best-kept spells and he turns on me at my moment of triumph! I was his mentor, and he tried to take from me the greatest moment in my life!'

'Be quiet, Phineas,' Archaeon snapped. 'Ebenezer got his comeuppance. But what happened next is most relevant to you, Phineas, so listen carefully. Ebenezer was about to cast the _Avada Kedavra_ at you, when Albus' phoenix apparated and delivered the boy's wand to him. He decided to save your life by casting the _Impedimenta_ spell at Ebenezer. Unfortunately I was in the process of trying to shield Albus from harm and the spell hit you instead. You were knocked out.'

There was a period of silence while this information hung in the room like a cloud.

'Albus saved your life, Phineas,' Professor Prewett said suddenly. Her hawk-eyes were trained on Professor Black. 'You should thank him.'

'I am hardly in a position to be grateful, am I?' Professor Black snorted.

'Shut up, Phineas,' Archaeon said, 'and let me continue the story. Ebenezer tried to kill Albus and myself with the _Avada Kedavra_ but Albus' phoenix dived down and took the spell, leaving a feather behind. I had time to grab Albus' wand and commenced a duel with Ebenezer. Unfortunately, one of Imhotep's mummies must have been enchanted to raise him from the dead should the living fail to accomplish their task. It performed the necessary spell and Imhotep was reborn.'

Professor Black's eyes were wide with greedy anticipation, as if he had forgotten that Imhotep could hardly be alive if Archaeon had survived to capture Professor Black and bring him back to Hogwarts bound in magical ropes.

'I stunned Ebenezer and ran over to protect my son,' Archaeon continued. 'I cast the _Avada Kedavra_, hoping to kill the creature before it could rebuild its flesh. Imhotep caught the spell and examined it, before …'

'The thing _caught_ the _Avada Kedavra?'_ Professor Prewett exclaimed. She was horrified by the thought. Her hands clutched on to the sides of her couch so tightly that Albus could see her bones through her skin.

'Yes, Imhotep might very well be the greatest dark wizard ever to live,' Archaeon said. 'Needless to say, he threw the spell at Ebenezer and killed him.'

'Professor Fudge … dead?' cried Professor Prewett. She was sobbing now, her face terribly white. Albus supposed that nobody could dislike a colleague that much to wish death upon them.

'Either that or a lifetime in Azkaban,' Archaeon said calmly. 'Nevertheless, Imhotep then cast some ancient spell towards us. Albus' Protective Potion did enough to save both our lives, but knocked me out. It was left to Albus to save both my life, Phineas' life, and the future of wizard-kind. He used a calmness of thought under pressure that would have done an auror proud. Aware of the properties of phoenix song, and the use of the _Avis Inimago Avis_ curse, he transfigured the phoenix feather into a phoenix. The bird's song tore at the soul of Imhotep, and seeing as he was not fully reborn yet, he disintegrated. His Inferi returned to their normal state, the scarabs and the asps disintegrated, and Ebenezer went back to being dead.'

'Imhotep … he turned Ebenezer … an Inferi?' Professor Black spluttered.

'Yes, I rather suspect that your dear master Imhotep would have killed all of us and made us all members of his worldwide army of dead people,' Archaeon said whimsically, as if he were almost amused by it.

'So … so Albus saved the wizarding world?' Professor Prewett said; her eyes wet.

'Indeed he did,' Archaeon said.

'Oh, Albus!' cried Professor Prewett. Albus was surprised to find himself enveloped in a hug by his Housemistress. When she finally broke off, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, she immediately adopted a serious look and turned to Archaeon. She said, 'So, Archaeon, I expect you will be having Professor Black tried and sent to Azkaban, and ensure that Albus is sufficiently rewarded by the ministry?'

'No, Athene,' Archaeon said softly. 'No on both counts. First of all, I do not want my son or me to obtain any publicity. Nobody needs ever know that Imhotep graced the world again. My Archaeowizards will be destroying any access to Heliopolis and the surrounding archaeological features. Furthermore, I do not want my son to achieve a status that will adversely affect his career at Hogwarts.'

'I have expelled him!' Professor Black snapped.

'Ah, that,' Archaeon said. 'You see, Athene, I could send Phineas to Azkaban but I rather sense the whole affair would raise an enormous stink at the Ministry. What with the Black family coffers funding half the Ministry affairs! But I simply cannot allow Phineas to remain at Hogwarts. So, Phineas, you are hereby ordered to resign from the Headmastership of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, with immediate effect. You will retire from all public duties and if I ever, _ever_ see you or your family engaged in the Dark Arts again, I will see to it that this affair comes to light, and I will see that the rest of your family are brought down with you.'

Professor Black's face was purple with anger, and his dark eyes were broiling. But he seemed to realise that his position was non-negotiable. Archaeon magicked a letter of resignation out of thin air; unbound Professor Black so that he could sign it, signed it himself and then called Professor Prewett and Albus to sign as witnesses.

Albus felt terribly important picking up the massive quill and signing on the line. The letter was extremely official looking, with Hogwarts' seal at the top.

'ON THIS, THE TENTH DAY OF MAY, IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD EIGHTEEN FIFTY-TWO, I, PHINEAS NIGELLUS (BLACK) DO HEREBY RESIGN, WITH IMMEDIATE EFFECT, FROM THE POST OF HEADMASTER AT HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY.

SIGNED,

Phineas Nigellus

WITNESSED BY,

Archaeon DumbledoreAthene PrewettAlbus Dumbledore

'Well, Phineas, you can pack your bags and leave this afternoon, I think,' Archaeon said cheerfully. 'You know the terms of our agreement. Make sure you abide by them.'

Phineas Black grunted.

'And it is high time you thanked Albus,' Professor Prewett snapped. 'He saved your life – twice!'

'Very well, thank you, boy,' Phineas Black grumbled, seizing Albus' hand in a one second handshake. He turned and stormed out another exit, presumably to the Headmaster's quarters. Albus could hear trunks being tossed around and the voice of Phineas Black cursing under every second breath.

Archaeon turned to Professor Prewett.

'As the newly appointed Chairman of the School Governing Body,' Archaeon said, turning aside to Albus with a wink and a whisper, 'sorry son; forgot to mention it to you.' He turned back to Professor Prewett and said, 'I ask you to take up the position of Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the interim. The Board will meet to discuss a long-term replacement, and I assure you, if you would like the job, I will give you my wholehearted support. The Board will probably listen to me.'

'I would be honoured,' Professor Prewett said. Without any instigation from Archaeon, she turned to Albus and said, 'Albus Dumbledore, I hereby reinstate you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I shall write it off the official records that you were ever expelled.'

'Thank you, Professor,' Albus said, going red around the ears and feeling like he could fly out the window. He was a student of Hogwarts again! He always had been, and always would be!

'It is a pleasure,' Professor Prewett said. 'Now why don't you go and celebrate the end of examinations with your fellow Gryffindors. They will want to celebrate the Quidditch Cup and House Championship victories.'

'But Professor Black took all our points away,' Albus said.

'Well, you can go and inform everyone in Gryffindor that the points have been restored,' Professor Prewett said, a small smile appearing at the edge of her lips. She added, 'with an additional one hundred points for your efforts today, Albus.'

Albus gave his father one last grin before rushing back to Gryffindor as quickly as his legs would carry him. He was desperate to let the House know what had happened.

The portrait of the Fat Lady swung open before Albus even had the chance to say the password. A blast of sound hit him smack in the face, and a dozen hands dragged him into the wildest celebrations Albus had ever seen.

Every single Gryffindor was jumping up and down, screaming their throats hoarse. Albus was lofted up into the air and carried around like a trophy, passed from seventh year to seventh year. He tried to ask what was going on, but amid the raucous cheering and drinking of butterbeers, Firewhiskies and who knows what else Aberforth had smuggled into the House, nobody could hear him.

Finally, after Albus had taken to jinxing anyone who tried to put him back on their shoulders, he managed to force his way through the crowd and find the other first years.

'Oh, Albus!' cried Victoria, flinging her arms around him. The other girls followed suit and all five kissed him on the cheek. William shook Albus' right hand until it nearly fell off, while Alabastor did the same with his left hand. Mars grinned from ear to ear.

'Just terrific, mate,' William enthused.

'You are the best wizard of our age, ever,' Mars exclaimed.

'WILL SOMEONE JUST TELL ME WHAT IS GOING ON?' Albus roared, shocking his friends into silence. 'That's better,' he said. 'I came here to tell the House that we have got our points back and won the trophy, so why is everyone going so mad; especially about me?'

'We know everything, mate,' Alabastor said.

'How?' demanded Albus. 'Black, Professor Prewett, my father and I were the only ones in that room and I was the first to come to Gryffindor Tower.'

'Have you forgotten your piratical roots?' Mars asked, smirking.

It took Albus a full minute before it dawned upon him.

'The portraits,' he said stupidly.

'Of course, you numskull!' cried William. 'They came back every minute with an update on what was going on in the Headmaster's office. We heard the whole story! We knew that we had won the House Championship and that you were on your way to tell us before you'd even left the Headmaster's office.'

'That's Headmistress's office,' Albus said with a smile.

'Did you really kill Imhotep?' Elizabeth Figg said; wide-eyed.

'No, but the phoenix I transfigured from a feather did,' Albus began. He launched into a full recollection of the story, on demand from his friends. Aberforth came over mid-way through the story with ten bottles of butterbeer and Albus had to start all over again.

At last Albus concluded his tale, a bit light-headed from the butterbeer. On the spur of the moment he summoned Peeves. The poltergeist floated mischievously in mid-air in front of his master.

'Peeves, I want you to follow Phineas Black from the castle, throwing everything you can lay your hands on at him,' Albus said. 'When you're done, come back and torment Caretaker Umbridge until he loses his mind, or better, leaves the castle for good.'

The other Pirates laughed at Albus' cheek. William, running his hand through his black hair as always, seemed to have a spark of inspiration.

'It is the end of the year,' William said eagerly, 'and we have a whole day before the Leaving Feast and then the train ride back to Platform Nine and Three Quarters! We should do another prank!'

'Yes, we cannot leave Hogwarts without one last prank,' Mars exclaimed.

Albus was feeling rather reckless. He had, after all, just evaded expulsion, defeated a Dark wizard and won a hundred points from the new Headmistress. He was hardly in any danger of getting into trouble.

'One last prank;' Albus said, a gleam in his eye, 'to send everyone off to the holidays in a good mood.'

* * *

The Pirates set out the following morning to enact their plan. Having forgotten the rules and regulations that Albus had set down in the beginning, the Pirates intended to re-use one of their most successful pranks. They snuck down to the dungeons, tickled the pear and got into the kitchen, where, after much distraction from the house-elves, Albus managed to perform _Mobilis tabulam_ on _all four_ House tables and the staff table. The intention was to send food flying whenever anyone tried to take hold of a platter or a jug of food or drink. Armed with scones and muffins from the house-elves, ten wickedly grinning Gryffindor first-years scuttled outside to enjoy the sunshine and await a Leaving Feast to remember.

That night at the Leaving Feast, Professor Prewett stood up at the lectern to make a brief announcement.

'As I am sure you have all heard through the grapevine that is the Hogwarts' portrait system,' she said with a wry grin, 'I am the new Headmistress, replacing Professor Black. He has, shall we say, decided to retire.'

The whole school laughed, including many of the Slytherins. Professor Black would never be able to show his face in public again once two hundred and eighty Hogwarts students returned home to tell their parents that he had tried to raise an evil Egyptian wizard to life, failed, been backstabbed by his own colleague and then had his life saved by a first year. Albus thought it might be more like two hundred and seventy nine Hogwarts students. He could see Noxious Black throwing hateful glares at everyone in the Great Hall. Noxious had not once looked at Albus, and Albus knew why. It pained Noxious more than anything in the world that his father was in the debt of his number one enemy, Albus Dumbledore.

'Now I have my own style of Headmistress-ship,' Professor Prewett continued, 'which I am sure those of you returning to Hogwarts next year will find interesting. But tonight is not the night for lectures, tonight we celebrate a Gryffindor victory in the House Championship …' Here she was interrupted by a huge cheer from the Gryffindors, '…and look forward to a much deserved rest over the summer holidays. Let the feast begin!'

The four House tables and the staff table were magically filled with golden platters and trays of food, goblets and jugs of drink. Albus grinned wickedly at his friends and watched as the first hands reached out to grab at their food.

A few people started to cry out as chickens and slabs of beef slapped them in the face. Pumpkin juice splattered at least five Ravenclaws seating nearby the Pirates at the Gryffindor table. Things were just starting to get ugly when …

'IMMOBILIS!' cried Professor Prewett. Everyone in the Great Hall stared up at her as the enchanted food stopped flying about and hung in mid-air. She looked in Albus' direction with a forbidding eye through her monocle. 'Dumbledore and the rest of you little pirates will not be running amok whilst I am Headmistress of this place.'

Suddenly Professor Prewett enchanted all the food that had already levitated to fly over to the Gryffindor table and pepper the ten Pirates. Albus covered his head with his hands but pumpkin juice and rhubarb pie still managed to find its way in between every strand of his hair. Drenched, Albus looked up to see the whole Great Hall laughing at the Pirates' expense, and his nine mates all covered with food. He broke out into a hysterical laugh himself, as did the rest of the Pirates.

'You know, I think Professor Prewett has all the makings of a Pirate herself,' William remarked, wiping orange juice from his brow.

'Perhaps,' Albus said; regally placing a whole cake on his head like a crown. 'She may have got the better of us this time, but we will be back next year.'

'Yes, we will be back,' Mars said, cackling wickedly. This set the rest of the Pirates off laughing again. It turned out to be the most entertaining Leaving Feast imaginable.

But then the feast was over, tired legs dragged tired bodies back to their dormitories for a last night at Hogwarts. The house-elves had packed the trunks. Albus' Cleansweep Two leaned up against his open trunk, which had his robes neatly folded away next to _A Better Way to Transfigure,_ the book that had saved Albus' life. While the other first year boys drifted off to sleep, Albus sat on the window ledge staring out across the moonlit Hogwarts grounds.

It was his last night at Hogwarts that year. He had made an amazing group of friends, become an expert at transfiguration and learned plenty more in other subjects, defeated a Dark wizard and helped Gryffindor win the House Quidditch Cup and the House Championship. But somehow Albus felt lonely without his trusted pet.

He gazed across the grounds at the Forbidden Forest in the direction of where he thought the Everlasting Oak stood. He might have been seeing things, but something seemed to burst through the foliage. In fact, something _had_ burst through the foliage and was now coming this way. What was it?

Albus tore the window open as fast as he could to let Fawkes come flying in. The magnificent gold and crimson phoenix settled on his shoulder, humming beautifully. Albus stroked his pet, tears in his eyes.

'I thought I had lost you,' Albus said. 'You are my closest friend, dear Fawkes. Promise you will never leave me again.'

Fawkes rubbed his handsome head against Albus', but never properly answered Albus' request.

* * *

At last Albus was aboard the Hogwarts Express, piling into a cabin with all nine the other Pirates. They had to leave their belongings in another cabin to make space for the ten of them. Exploding Snap cards were out, Albus bought half the sweets from the trolley for them all to share, and they had a ball of a time on the way back to Platform 9¾.

The year had come to an end. After Albus said farewell to each of his friends, promising to have Mars around at his place for a few weeks, pledging to play plenty of Quidditch with the Jones brothers, loaning _A Better Way to Transfigure_ to Jenning Ranger and promising to write to Victoria, Albus joined Aberforth in greeting his mother and father.

Lubo Dumbledore held on to Albus for a particularly long time, sobbing and going on about how proud she was of him. At last Aberforth was heard to quip, 'Woman, you have an eldest son too, you know,' at which point Archaeon started yelling at him for his lack of manners. They boarded their broomsticks, Archaeon levitated their belongings and made them invisible, and then the Dumbledore family flew up into the sky for the flight back to Wales.

With the air on his face and the sound of Fawkes sailing along beside him, Albus felt happier and freer than he ever had. Albus took delight from one of life's great pleasures – the joy of youth unfettered by the concerns and worries of adulthood. Albus was happy.

THE END

* * *

Author's Note: There it is, at last, the end of Albus' first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the end of this fan fiction. I hope you have noticed how hard I have tried to integrate features of Albus Dumbledore the man into Albus Dumbledore the child. Particularly the way in which he treats Harry – trying to protect him from fame, play down his successes and keep him modest. These were all traits of Dumbledore as a child himself. I have tried to keep Dumbledore as true to the real man, while exploring the sorts of emotions and actions he would have experienced as a boy. I hope that you have enjoyed the journey I have taken.

I would like to thank everyone who has ever reviewed this story. I have read them all and am truly grateful to all of you for your words of encouragement. You kept me going. I was hoping to achieve the mark of 1,000 reviews but have fallen well short. Nevertheless I believe I have touched you all in a small way and hope you are glad to have known young Dumbledore. I love that character and remain extremely sorry about his demise. I would like to take this chance to thank everyone who has ever reviewed my story: **Adrianna Ashke, dd9736, War of the Worlds, Spagetti O's, mekareQ, Eternal Silver Flame, Xpd, harryfm, The Allknowing Tonks, Dumbledor, Lizzy3, BovinePimp, mimbulus, Thomas Straub, Linwen21490, qwerty11, Morag Camshron, LordTHANOS, Celi, skittlelove, Spriggan, linaeviel, Flying Pheonix, Spicysuga, THEJUDGE.JUDGEJUDY1070, dragonhavn, sethro72, Potpoury, Zesuit, Thuriel, Lipglossnblack, EJC, Dark Solstice, prurientmind, Francie46, random person you don't know, Griffinkhan, bibtecaria, Fallen-Legacy88, Gantories, Jessica Halliwell Potter, Tombadgerlock, Jen, Nightblue, Sam, meowcat00, Muntz, scott o'dell, emmaline of Trebond, ROG1039, High Elf Queen, jhgjkdf, No 1 you know, Prongs J. Potter, Huggiebear, mthukral, Kason, henry **and of course, **SammyStar.** Hope I did not miss anyone.

If I get the chance I will write about Albus Dumbledore's second year at Hogwarts. Perhaps with one or two convincing reviews I might consider it. But give me at least a few months, as I have a lot of work to do over the coming months and will be too busy. Perhaps you will hear more about Albus Dumbledore and his friends, so watch this space.

For now: good bye and thank you for reading "Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather". It was my gift to you, the fan fiction universe.


	21. Book 2 Is Here

A note from the author of … Albus Dumbledore and the Phoenix Feather

Greetings all; Merry Christmas and best wishes for the season. This is just a short announcement to all the people who followed Albus' adventures through his first year at Hogwarts. I have written the first chapter in the second book about Albus' adventures.

It is entitled … Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame … and you can find it under my profile. Do read, review, and enjoy!


	22. Book 3 is Here

To all readers of the _Albus Dumbledore at Hogwarts _Series

Announcing the arrival of Albus' third year at Hogwarts

Albus Dumbledore and the Wizard's Ruse

Story ID: 3355187

ENJOY!

As ever,

Your loyal Grandson of Dumbledore


	23. The author has published for real

Greetings to fans of the Albus Dumbledore series on fan fiction.

I would like to apologize for not finishing this series, but my life became very busy – I am a doctor, and now, a published author.

If you liked my works, please see (michaeloehley dot com) for information about the "real" me, and about my first book, _The 4 Powers of Daren Sáner._ I hope you will buy it and enjoy the fantasy world that I created in my own imagination.

With best wishes,

Grandson of Dumbledore


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